


And So It Goes

by dc_comic_girl



Series: I've Loved These Days [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, COVID 19, Coronavirus, Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak in Love, Craig and Those Guys - Freeform, Craig's Gang, Fluff and Angst, M/M, My First South Park Fic, POV Tweek Tweak, Quarantine, Slow Burn, Tweek - Freeform, creek - Freeform, south park - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dc_comic_girl/pseuds/dc_comic_girl
Summary: When a coronavirus starts sweeping across the United States, even a quiet mountain town must go into quarantine. Craig was able to orchestrate a well-timed sleepover, so his fake boyfriend will be quarantined with him, but how will Tweek be able to deal with the anxieties of something of this proportion while doing his best to hide his fears from Craig?
Relationships: Clyde Donovan & Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan & Jimmy Valmer, Clyde Donovan & Tweek Tweak, Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens, Craig Tucker & Jimmy Valmer, Craig Tucker & Tweek Tweak, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Token Black & Clyde Donovan, Token Black & Craig Tucker, Token Black & Jimmy Valmer, Token Black & Tweek Tweak, Token Black/Nichole Daniels, Tweek Tweak & Heidi Turner, Tweek Tweak & Jimmy Valmer
Series: I've Loved These Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785247
Comments: 126
Kudos: 330





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, a few weeks ago I caught the last plane back to my parents' house so I wouldn't be alone during this quarantine. Now my anxious, bipolar ass is stuck in my childhood house, where I have no bedroom and nothing but time to think about how scary what's happening in the world is. So it occurs to me, if I'm freaking out, you can bet your ass Tweek is too. 
> 
> I don't own these characters, 'cause if I did, there'd be more episodes about them. They're aged up in this fic, but Garrison is still the president, because if the world doesn't have to make sense, neither do I.

It had all happened really fast. To be fair, to Tweek, every change seemed to happen fast, but it felt like only yesterday he had seen a post about a new disease outbreak in China while scrolling through his Facebook news feed.

“It’s nothing,” Craig had said, barely breaking eye contact with the video game on Token’s TV to quickly scan the article Tweek was shoving at him. “Fake stuff is always appearing on Facebook. Zuckerberg will post anything for money, remember?”

“It’s true, Tweek,” Token had added. “Remember when Butters posted all those lies about us on there to try and make people afraid to talk to Coon and Friends? Nothing that gets posted on Facebook is vetted.”

“Yeah, or like when Bebe posted that I cried at a Taylor Swift concert last y- Fuck Craig!” Clyde had yelled, as a blue shell blew him up, knocking him back into 5th place. Tweek had seen him shoot a glare in Craig’s direction and receive an apathetic raised finger in response.

“Wuh-wuh-we’re giving examples of _f-fake_ st-stories, Clyde,” Jimmy had smirked, pulling into first.

Token had let out a snort of laughter as Clyde smacked Jimmy in the back of the head.

“Honestly, the disrespect I receive is, frankly, unacceptable.”

Token and Jimmy had laughed even harder at Clyde’s outrage, and even Craig had cracked a smile, but Tweek couldn’t stop his hands from shaking or his heartrate from raising, even when Craig had given his knee a reassuring squeeze.

As it turned out, he had been right to be nervous, as the story had, in fact, not been fake. As January and February progressed, Tweek kept careful track of the virus. More and more people died in China, and then Italy. Cruise ships were quarantined and more and more countries had confirmed cases.

“China’s far away,” Craig had told him one day at lunch, when he saw Tweek shaking and obsessively checking his phone. “And no one from South Park really travels, so it can’t get here.”

“Gah! What are you talking about?!” Tweek had yelled back, losing his patience. “People travel all the time! Stan’s gang up and leave practically every weekend! You went to Peru!”

Craig hadn’t seemed to have a response to this. Tweek went out after school that day to buy as much sanitizer as he could.

The case numbers continued to grow – more and more in the States, more and more in Colorado. Stores and restaurants closed. People stocked up from Whole Foods like it was the end of the world. Garrison continued to tell the press that nothing was wrong and this was just a ruse designed by liberal commies and Canadians to try and make him look like a bad president. Ironically, the president’s assurance that there was no emergency was what seemed to be the catalyst to make Craig believe this _was_ a serious problem. He had even accepted the travel-sized, sparkly, blue hand sanitizer Tweek had gotten him from Bath and Bodyworks and hung it on his bag.

And then, today, disaster hit. During last period, it was announced over the intercom that school was to be suspended for the next two weeks due to the international pandemic.

Tweek’s vision tunneled as the bell rung. He walked to his locker, without even waiting for Craig to walk with him. He opened it up, without thinking, but quickly retracted his hand as if the combination lock had burned him. How many people could have accidentally touched his locker today? How long could the virus be living on it? Oh god, what if someone had sneezed on it?

Tweek’s breathing quickened and he could feel himself falling into a panic attack. He reached for the sanitizer hanging on his backpack, but when he squeezed it, only air came out.

 _No, no, no, no_. Tweek squeezed harder, as if to will more sanitizer to materialize in the tiny plastic bottle.

“Here,” came a calm voice from behind him.

Tweek spun around to see Craig standing behind him. The taller boy held out his own tiny bottle (which Tweek thought looked like it was hardly ever used). Tweek let out a soft sound of panic, his body convulsing and shaking. Craig grabbed Tweek’s hand firmly, but also gently. He squeezed some of the alcohol into the shaking hand and put the cap back on.

“Gah! Craig! You just touched me! If the virus was on my hands, now it’s on yours too!”

Craig looked at him like he was going to roll his eyes but didn’t. He used his thumb nail to flick open the lid once again and squirted some sanitizer into his own hand.

“This is it, Craig,” Tweek whispered. His voice was softer but no less panicked. “Nothing is going to be normal anymore.”

“When is anything in South Park normal?” Craig responded, opening his own locker and pulling out his books.

“I’m never gonna see anyone again,” Tweek responded. He could feel his voice shaking, and his eyes stung. He didn’t want to cry in school, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to stop it. He forced himself to look up, willing any moisture back into his skull.

“Tweek, they’re closing the school, not the world.”

“They **_are_** closing the world, Craig! Aren’t you paying attention?” Couldn’t Craig understand how dire this situation was?

Craig opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly a blur of red coat and brown hair jumped on his back, causing him to stumble forward.

“Isn’t this awesome?!” Clyde yelled. “No school for two weeks! Guys, we should have a party! I volunteer Token’s house!”

Craig shoved Clyde away from him, stepping towards Tweek as Token joined them.

“I’m not sure throwing a party is exactly the best way to practice social distancing,” Token laughed, lightly. His demeaner shifted to one of sympathy as he looked over to Tweek, who was struggling to hold still, and was picking at the label on his, now empty, bottle of hand sanitizer. “You doin’ okay, Tweek?”

Tweek opened his mouth to respond. He wanted nothing more than to collapse into Token and explain every fear he had been holding onto for three months. He wanted to receive comfort. He wanted someone to understand. But he didn’t think he could do it without crying, so he clamped his mouth shut and gave one sharp nod.

“It’s okay,” Token said, reassuringly, placing a hand on Tweek’s shoulder. “I know this virus is scary.”

“Hey!” Clyde jumped in, sounding offended. “I don’t want to hear anyone shit-talking the coronavirus or its school canceling ways. It’s my new favourite disease.”

“ _You’re_ a disease,” Craig rebuked.

Clyde gasped and put a hand to his heart, feigning insult and Craig flipped him off. “Come on Tweek, I’ll take you home,” he added, grabbing Tweek’s shaking hand with the same gentle firmness.

“So wait, are we not having a party?” Tweek heard Clyde ask Token as Craig led him down the hall. He looked down at Craig’s hand grasping his. It didn’t give him the same feeling as when he touched his locker. It was like, somehow, he knew Craig’s hand was the last safe thing to touch.

* * *

Tweek stared miserably out the passenger’s window as Craig pulled out of the school parking lot. They drove in silence for a couple minutes, as Tweek’s mind raced.

“It really is going to be okay,” Craig offered, in a small voice.

“No, it’s not!” Tweek yelled. He wanted to stomp his foot. “We’re going to go into lockdown, just like China did, and I’m not going to see any of you.”

“Yeah, but do you really _want_ to see Clyde?” Craig offered. Tweek knew he was trying to make him laugh, but he couldn’t bring himself to. “I personally think two weeks will be a nice break from that jackass.”

Tweek let out a moan and tugged at a chunk of his hair.

“It won’t be two weeks, Craig. It’s gonna be, like, months. And my dad won’t ever close the store, so I’ll probably catch it, and then you guys should probably just never come near me again, because we don’t even know what the long term effects are or how long the disease can lay dormant in a person. So, I’ll just have to stay in my parents’ house with just them for, like, ever…”

The tears finally started to come, and with nowhere else to hide Tweek looked out the window again.

Craig let out a small sound of acknowledgement but said nothing else.

 _It probably will be a nice break for him_ , Tweek thought to himself. _He won’t have to spend all hours of the day on call to comfort your crazy ass_.

Craig and Tweek had been pretending to be a couple since they were ten years old. When they were kids, a bunch of Asian girls in school had thought they looked cute together and basically bullied Craig into being with Tweek. The first time they had tried to break up, so Craig could be free to date whomever he wanted, the town had fallen into a deep depression. Tweek had always figured the town had just unanimously appointed Craig the sacrificial lamb to try and keep Tweek calm. Tweek’s parents definitely had.

Craig had eventually agreed to resume their fake relationship. When Tweek asked him if he was sure, he had shrugged in response. Tweek had decided not to press the issue – if Craig was going to sacrifice dating the people he wanted for the good of the town, the least Tweek could do was not annoy him by asking for reassurance on the same question over and over.

Craig pulled into a spot outside Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse, and Tweek gave him a curious look. Craig hated both coffee and Tweek’s father, so he usually dropped Tweek off at his house rather than his parents’ shop.

“Come on,” Craig encouraged, nodding his head towards the store. “I wanna grab a hot chocolate.”

Tweek rubbed his wet eyes on the back of his hand but nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt. Craig waited for him at the back of the car and offered his hand. Tweek took it and let Craig lead him into the shop.

The bell dinged as the boys entered and Richard Tweak looked up from washing down a table.

“Why, hello Craig,” Richard said, in his soft, even voice. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hello, Mr. Tweak,” Craig mumbled back, avoiding eye contact and walking to the counter.

“Craig!” Susan Tweak greeted in delighted surprise. “So good to see you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Tweak,” Craig replied, and even offered a polite smile.

“How are you two boys doing today?” Richard asked, setting down his rag and drying his hands on his shirt.

Tweek let out a small shriek, but before he could answer, Craig answered for him.

“They closed the high school for a couple weeks. Tweek is pretty worried about it.”

“Ah well, all the more time to spend helping out in the shop, Tweek,” Richard suggested, not seeming the least bit concerned Tweek had started twitching again.

Craig gave Richard a calculated look. “So you don’t plan on closing down until the pandemic is over?”

Richard actually appeared taken aback by this suggestion.

“Why Craig, that’s only for non-essential services. I can’t imagine anything more essential than a fresh cup of local coffee after a long day of staying away from your neighbours. A cup of Tweak’s coffee can be like a hug from an old friend in a time when we need hugs most.”

“Would you like some hot chocolate, Craig,” Susan asked, cutting off her husband from continuing his diatribe.

Craig nodded in response, reaching the hand not holding Tweek’s into his pocket to pull out some change, but Susan shook her head and shot him a wink before handing him a cup.

Tweek looked around the store, completely devoid of patronage. He knew his father would never close the store, but surely they were losing more money staying open with no customers.

“Can Tweek come stay at my house for a couple of days?”

Tweek looked with a start at the boy holding his hand. What was Craig doing? Didn’t he realize that if the town went into quarantine while he had Tweek over that he would be stuck with Tweek until it was lifted?

“A couple of days?” Richard asked, thoughtfully.

“Yeah well, my sister wants to learn to bake or something.”

As someone who couldn’t lie at all, Tweek was impressed at how quickly Craig could make up a story on the spot. He was sure Tricia had absolutely no interest in learning to bake.

Tweek squeezed Craig’s hand as if to say, “What are you doing? Don’t you understand you could get stuck with me for _months_?” Craig didn’t look at him, but he did squeeze his hand back and gently run his thumb over the back of Tweek’s hand reassuringly.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Susan chimed in, brightly, and Craig gave her another half smile.

“Yes, well, I suppose as long as your parents don’t have a problem with it,” Richard agreed. Tweek could see his father was fighting an inner struggle between the cons of not having an extra set of hands around the deserted coffee shop and the publicity benefits to having an openly gay son.

Before the permission could be rescinded, Craig nodded and pulled Tweek towards the door. “Yeah, they’re cool. Thanks for the hot chocolate. Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak.”

As soon as the door closed behind them, Tweek yanked his hand away from Craig’s.

“Gah! Wuh-What do you think you’re doing, Craig?!”

“What do you mean? I’m getting you out of the house. You said you were worried about being stuck in quarantine.” Craig looked at him with detached confusion.

“Yeah, but I also said it could go on for months! _Months_! You haven’t even asked your parents!”

Craig rolled his eyes. “My parents love you. They won’t care. I promise.”

“But-”

“Tweek,” Craig said firmly, holding the boy’s shoulder to keep him from shaking. “I’m telling you it will be fine. You were worried about being stuck in your house with your parents, now you won’t be. Whatever happens next, at least we’ll be together.”

* * *

Craig was sitting at Tweek’s desk, watching the boy pack, or rather, run around his room and accomplish close to nothing.

In the past, when Tweek had gone to have a sleepover at Craig’s or Token’s it had been easy to pack. He knew what he would need in a 24 hour period, and he could always come home if he forgot something. Packing for an undetermined period of time was significantly harder.

Craig’s phone buzzed loudly, causing Tweek to turn in alarm. Craig picked it up, looked at it briefly, and then set it back down.

“My mom says it’s cool.”

Tweek had made Craig ask his mother for permission to have a house guest as soon as they had pulled into Tweek’s driveway. He knew Craig’s dad wasn’t his biggest fan under the best of circumstances, and he really didn’t want to give him any more reasons to dislike him. Like, suddenly showing up with a suitcase and refusing to leave.

Craig stood up, stretched his arms over his head and walked over to Tweek. “What is taking so long? You’ve stayed at my house before.”

“Not for months, Craig!”

Craig opened his mouth, and Tweek thought he would argue the longevity again, a debate that had lasted the majority of the car ride between the coffeehouse and the Tweaks’ residence, but he just closed it.

“Just grab some clothes. You can always wash them or wear something of mine if you run out.”

“Wear something of yours?! You’re twice my size!”

It was true. Craig had always been one of the taller kids in class, but the summer between elementary and high school, Craig had had a huge growth spurt, leaving him around 6’3”. Tweek, unfortunately, was not as lucky and seemed to cap out at about 5’7” (though sometimes he told himself he was closer to 5’8”).

“Right, that’s how you know they won’t be too small,” Craig smirked, and started grabbing some clothes from Tweek’s closet and throwing them in the suitcase haphazardly. “Come on, I want to get home before Red Racer starts.”

Tweek tried to straighten out the mess that was Craig’s packing, but it was a losing battle. Once Craig had cleared out the majority of Tweek’s closet, he unplugged Tweek’s keyboard.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Tweek asked, his voice quickening.

“What? Playing calms you down, doesn’t it?” Craig asked, tucking the instrument under his arm.

“It’s -nuh- heavy.”

“I’m good. Grab your toothbrush.”

Tweek did as he was told, along with his hairbrush and a bottle of shampoo. He followed Craig, who was dragging his overflowing suitcase and carrying his keyboard, to the front door.

Tweek locked the door behind them, checking it was locked multiple times – turning the knob and pushing. He got to the bottom of his front steps and decided to run back up to check one more time just to be safe.

Craig threw the suitcase in the trunk and gingerly placed the keyboard on the backseat of his Pinto. Tweek hated that car.

“They explode, Craig!” he had screamed, when Craig showed off the car he bought himself the day he got his licence. It hadn’t changed anything in Craig’s mind – he was extremely proud of his light blue car, with rust around the front bumper and a noticeable dent on the passenger’s side door. Tweek was pretty sure the car would catch fire any time they were in it, but he let Craig drive him to school every morning all the same.

Tweek climbed in shotgun, balancing his bottle and brushes in his lap, and bit his lip.

“Maybe I should check-”

“It’s locked, babe,” Craig cut him off, resting his hand on the back of Tweek’s seat and turning around to back out of the driveway.

As they drove one block over to the Tucker household, Tweek could already feel his body convulsing and shaking less. As much as he cared for his parents, he was happy he wouldn’t have to be with them during this time of international crisis. Neither of his parents was known for handling adversity well, and he figured that having to deal with their spaz of a son would only exacerbate any problems.

Craig parked his car next to his father’s truck. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned to Tweek.

“You okay?” he asked. Tweek was barely shaking anymore, but he was biting his lip as another issue gnawed at his mind.

“He hates me, Craig,” Tweek mumbled, reaching for his hair.

“He doesn’t hate you. No one hates you,” Craig assured, intercepting the hand before it could latch on to any hair. “I’m fairly confident they like you more than me.”

“He doesn’t like when I come over.”

“He does, he’s just…not as flowery as your dad. He’s never gonna give speeches about coffee and hugs.”

Tweek didn’t reply, watching the bushes as if waiting for Thomas Tucker to pounce out of them.

Craig gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Come on, Red Racer is starting.”

“We’re home!” Craig called as he kicked his shoes off and onto the mat in the corner. Without waiting for a response, he started to carry Tweek’s luggage towards the stairs.

Laura Tucker emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a frilly apron Tweek had gotten for her three Christmases ago. He often found her wearing it when she knew he would be coming over, and Tweek suspected it was premeditated.

She walked over and gave the boy a kiss on the head. “How are you? Is your family doing well?”

Before Tweek could answer, Thomas poked his head out of the kitchen. Thomas and Tweek had never been alone in the same room together. Tweek suspected this, too, was not a coincidence.

“How uh…how you doin’ there, Tweek?” Thomas asked, joining his wife in the foyer. “Heard you’re stayin’ here a couple days. That’s um…that’s great news.”

Tweek fidgeted awkwardly, wishing Craig had not abandoned him here in the seventh circle of social anxiety hell for a children’s TV show.

“Why don’t you go upstairs to Craig’s room and unpack,” Laura suggested, mercifully. “I’ll let you boys know when supper’s ready.”

Tweek nodded and mumbled his thanks before quickly escaping up the stairs. He thought he saw Laura shoot her husband a sharp look as soon as they were alone.

Craig was already in bed, facing his TV when Tweek opened the door. There was an air mattress on the ground, still filling with air via its electric pump, and Craig had moved his own computer to the ground, setting up Tweek’s keyboard in its place. Craig didn’t turn away from the TV but beckoned with a nod for Tweek to come over, patting the spot beside him on the bed.

Tweek walked over, carefully avoiding the air mattress and Craig’s other belongings strewn across the floor. He sat down next to Craig, pulling his knees up to his chest. The two boys watched the TV in silence for a long time.

 _He’s mad at you._ Tweek told himself. _He’s mad you’re being such a freak about something that no one else thinks is a big deal. He hates you and he wishes you would just go away. Then he wouldn’t have to pretend to be in this stupid relationship anymore._

Tweek continued imagining all the reasons Craig probably hated him, creating a mental tally of all the things he had done today that were probably annoying to someone like Craig. He sat there as the silence cut into him, as if every minute Craig didn’t talk was another indication of Craig’s deep seeded resentment for his fake boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” Tweek finally whispered, his voice breaking, as the end credits started for Red Racer.

Craig turned to him, with a look of surprise. _He probably doesn’t think you’re really sorry because you keep doing it_.

Craig opened his mouth, most likely to berate Tweek for his selfishness and his inability to control his own emotions but was interrupted by Laura’s call of “Supper!”

* * *

Supper was quiet. The Tuckers were not usually a chatty bunch, and Tweek was far too worked up about the day’s events to exchange any pleasantries. He pushed his lasagna around his plate and tried to ignore the fact that Craig kept shooting him curious looks.

 _He’s mad you aren’t talking. You said you were sorry for being a spaz but you haven’t changed. If you don’t change he’s gonna regret inviting you here and tell you to leave, and then you’ll have no one_.

“Clyde wants to throw a coronavirus party!” Tweek yelled, before he could stop himself, as it was the only topic of conversation he could think of.

“Oh…well…” Laura responded, looking completely caught off guard. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea…”

“Good for him,” Thomas chuckled. “This whole thing is gonna blow over in a couple weeks and everyone is gonna realize how stupid it is. It’s all a big scam brought on by the Chinese to lower America’s defences.”

“Dad, it definitely isn’t,” Tricia replied, rolling her eyes.

“Look, if people want to hide inside because they’re scared of the flu, that’s their business, but I’m not gonna stop living my life because I’m afraid of a cough.”

Tweek’s hands started to shake under the table. _He’s talking about you. He thinks you’re a coward. Craig probably thinks you’re a coward too._

“Dad, it’s not a fucking cough. A bunch of people died in China,” Craig suddenly cut in, his voice a little louder than usual.

“Craig! Watch your language-” Laura scolded.

“Yeah, that’s what the Chinese say, but how can we actually know for sure? All I’m saying is, it’s my right as an American to risk getting sick, if I’m not scared of a cough-”

“It’s not a fucking cough!” Craig yelled, slapping a hand on the table.

Tweek was now a mess of tremors. His eye was twitching and he had to sit on his hands to keep from pulling at his hair. The table resumed its silence.

_This is your fault. You made them fight. If you had just kept quiet they wouldn’t be fighting. You make everything worse. You should have just stayed home. You don’t belong with people. All you do is make people miserable._

“Can Tweek and me be excused?” Craig asked, grabbing his and Tweek’s plates from the table before he even received an answer.

“Well…um…did you have enough to eat, Tweek?” Laura asked sweetly, though her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah, yes ma’am. Thank you,” Tweek replied, hurriedly and scooted out from the table to follow Craig as he stomped up the stairs.

As soon as they reached Craig’s room, Craig flopped onto his bed, and covered his face with his hands, in a display of great exhaustion. Tweek stood awkwardly next to the, now fully inflated, air mattress.

“I’m sorry my dad is an asshole,” Craig said, muffled by his hands, after what felt like years of silence.

Tweek didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to make it worse, but he worried if he said nothing Craig would get mad. He didn’t want to disagree with Craig, as it could lead to a fight, but he didn’t want to agree with him either, because Thomas was still his dad.

“I think maybe all dads are assholes sometimes,” he finally decided was the safest response.

Craig sighed and pulled his hands away from his face to look at Tweek.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

They spent the rest of the night playing video games and eating the junk food Craig had hidden under his bed, and Tweek was proud of himself for not commenting, even once, on what a bad idea it is to keep food in your room where gnomes can find it.

By two o’clock they had played every grand prix in Mario Kart, earned a bunch of tags a piece for kicking Clyde’s ass at Super Smash Bros., and defeated the Inhumans level of Ultimate Alliance 3.

“It’s weird they live on the moon,” Tweek thought out loud.

“No weirder than talking whales living there,” Craig yawned.

Tweek didn’t feel particularly sleepy, but he could see Craig’s eyes drooping with fatigue, so he got up to turn off the game.

_It must be draining dealing with you._

“What are you doing?”

“I want to go to sleep,” Tweek responded defensively, turning off the light and climbing down onto the air mattress.

“Since when?” Craig mumbled, but put up no further fight, clearly too exhausted to disagree.

The boys lay in silence for a few minutes, Tweek waiting to hear Craig’s even breathing as confirmation that his fake boyfriend had fallen asleep. Tweek closed his own eyes, trying not to think about the numbers in China, or their president who continued to deny the severity of the situation, or how he was ever going to make it through the next few months without Craig hating him.

“Tweek?”

Tweek’s eyes shot open. Craig’s voice was quiet, and almost trepidatious, but unmistakable in the silence of the room.

_This is it. You’ve already gotten him to hate you. He’s gonna kick you out tonight._

“Y-yeah, Craig?”

“Are you mad at me?”

The question took Tweek by surprise so much that he actually sat up. When sitting, his face was almost directly across from Craig’s lying on his pillow.

“N-no? Why would I be mad?”

“Because I didn’t take this thing seriously. Because you warned me about this virus and I blew it off.”

“I warned everyone, Craig. Not just you.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who’s supposed to believe you.”

It seemed like such a weird reason for Craig to be concerned. No one ever took Tweek seriously. He was always warning people about things, but it was just an annoying habit of his, like twitching or pulling his hair. It wasn’t a reason to be mad.

“No, Craig. I’m not mad at you.”

Tweek heard a soft sound as if Craig was letting out a breath he was holding.

“’Night, Tweek.”

“’Night, Craig.”


	2. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the gravity of the situation starts to hit his friends, Tweek finds himself more nervous about fiction than fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That summary sounded smart at 1 am
> 
> Hey readers, it's me, your girl, back at it setting an unreasonable pace for publishing chapters.
> 
> Thank you so much for the positive feedback from the first chapter. I really enjoy writing this story. I think it's helping me deal with or at least acknowledge some of my own anxieties. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Again, the characters aren't mine, but I promise I'd take real good care of them...

**_Clyde Donovan added Token Black to the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Jimmy Valmer to the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Tweek Tweak to the group_ **

**_Craig Tucker left the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**Clyde:** guys this is serious

**_Craig Tucker left the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**Craig:** stop

 **Clyde:** guys this is a code red

 **Clyde:** guys

 **Clyde:** the coronavirus is a false god

 **Clyde:** theyre closing taco bell!!!!! 😱😱

**_Craig Tucker left the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**Craig:** clyde

 **Craig:** leave me alone

 **Clyde:** guys!!!! what am i going to do with no taco bell for two weeks????!??!😭

 **Jimmy:** lose weight?

 **Clyde:** jimmy honestly fuck off out of my group chat

 **Craig:** is that a legitimate option?

 **Token:** You could make your own tacos?

 **Clyde:** oooo look at me im token and im rich and i can afford to make my own tacos oooo

 **Token:** You can’t afford a tortilla?

 **Craig:** like clyde has ever eaten only one tortilla

 **Jimmy:** Clyde’s taco budget could fund a cure for coronavirus

 **Clyde:** jimMY I SWEAR TO GODDD

**_Jimmy Valmer changed the name of the group to_ a great audience**

**Clyde:** jimmy i will block you

 **Craig:** block me.

 **Craig:** do it.

 **Clyde:** token im coming over will you make me tacos

 **Token:** I could leave you tortillas on my front step?

 **Clyde:** uGHh are you sayin uoi are scared of the virus to

 **Jimmy:** Clyde’s grammar gave me coronavirus

 **Craig:** no one wants you to come over even without the virus

 **Clyde:** guys if you dont start being nicer im gonna go talk to stan and those guys instead

 **Craig:** good

 **Craig:** bye

 **Token:** Where’s Tweek?

 **Jimmy:** has he had enough of you yet Craig?

 **Clyde:** or 😉 has 😉 he had 😉 enough of uoi

 **Craig:** learn to type

 **Clyde:** 😉

**Craig: 🖕🏻**

**Tweek:** here

 **Token:** Hi Tweek. Hanging in there? 😊

 **Clyde:** hi tweek 😉

 **Tweek:** whatt is this?

 **Token:** Mostly Clyde complaining.

 **Clyde:** #betrayed

 **Clyde:** you had my trust

 **Clyde:** now you have my tears

 **Token:** 🤷🏾‍♂️

 **Jimmy:** Tweek how’s Craig’s house? Tired of him flipping you off yet?

 **Clyde:** if youre tired of craig you can come stay with me 😉 tweek we can make cupcakes 😊 ❤️

 **Token:** Clyde, don’t use Tweek as a personal chef just because Taco Bell is closed.

 **Clyde:** quiet youre dead to me

 **Jimmy:** Craig had the right idea moving his boyfriend in before international house arrest

 **Token:** Yeah, long distance is harder than I thought it would be 😔.

 **Clyde:** aww token I miss you too all is forgiven

 **Token:** I meant Nichole.

 **Clyde:** 😧😧😧

**_Clyde Donovan changed Token Black’s name to_ cheater**

**cheater:** No tortillas for you.

 **Clyde:** ☹️

* * *

By day five, Tweek suspected the severity of the situation was starting to become apparent to most of the town. School had only been closed for two school days, since they never would have gone on Saturday or Sunday, but Tweek suspected the workload they had been emailed was more than they would have received for the rest of the semester.

“They just want to keep us busy,” Craig assured him Tuesday morning when they received their respective emails containing work to complete over the next two weeks. “No one is expecting you to do all this work right now.”

“But what if I don’t and then I fail all four of my courses and then I can’t catch up next year and I can’t graduate with the rest of you?!” Tweek yelled, while frantically trying to fill in some statistics work sheets. His hands shook so bad, he couldn’t type the numbers into the calculator on his phone, and Craig had to take it away from him.

“How about I do half and you do half and then we share?” Craig suggested, holding Tweek’s phone out of reach.

“Because the teachers will know when we have the same answers!” Tweek yelled, pulling at his bangs.

“Okay, then what if we both copy Token?”

“Ah-Are you kidding?! Then all three of us will have the same answers!”

“Yeah, but that won’t matter if the answers are _right_.”

Laura Tucker had set up a study space at the kitchen table for her two children and Tweek. Thomas had brought his old desktop out of the basement and hooked it up next to Craig and Tricia’s laptops. Tweek had mentally prepared himself to boot up the old computer and get to work, but Craig had insisted Tweek take the laptop and let him use the desktop. Craig cited the touch pad on his laptop being a “pain in the ass” as the reason he preferred the desktop, but the older PC had already crashed and rebooted several times over the past two days, and Tweek suspected Craig took the bullet to avoid a Tweek melt down.

Tricia had spent only a few minutes at the makeshift workspace that morning, right before her parents left. Tweek suspected that if he was not here, Craig would be following the same pattern. Instead Craig sat dutifully next to his fake boyfriend and practiced his probability theory and essay writing skills.

“I don’t want to cheat. If I cheat, I won’t have the skills in senior year to pass my classes, and I still won’t graduate!” Tweek explained, willing Craig to understand how important this was.

Craig looked at him for a couple seconds, his arm still raised above his head holding the phone, but finally sighed in resignation and handed the phone back to Tweek.

“Fine. We’ll do the work,” Craig rolled his eyes and opened his own textbook. “But stop pulling your fucking hair.”

Tweek did his best to hold up his end of the deal, and the two worked in relative silence for the next couple of hours. Slowly but surely, Tweek could feel the insurmountable pile of work getting smaller every time he or Craig crossed an assignment off the list. Following the steps and holding to a plan made Tweek feel better, like he had more control over what was going on. He figured if they kept at this pace, he and Craig would be done their assignments by the end of the two weeks, even if the quarantine did go on longer.

By around noon, Craig’s phone began to buzz. A couple times at first, but then more and more frequently.

The sound made Tweek’s heartrate pick up, and every time Craig picked up the device, glanced at it, and typed a quick response, he could feel himself shaking just a little more.

Craig, on the other hand, seemed less than interested in the phone, mostly ignoring it or rolling his eyes in its general direction.

Tweek didn’t want to peek. Whoever was texting Craig was Craig’s business, not his. He didn’t want to breach Craig’s privacy, but the phone would not shut up. As a completely involuntary motion, his eyes darted towards to the unattended phone between them, as another spurt of vibrations started.

On the screen were two messages from Clyde. The first containing the words “in your bedddd” and the second containing several wink emojis.

Tweek quickly darted his eyes away as Craig picked up his phone.

“Who’s texting you?” Tweek asked. He tried to sound nonchalant, even as his voice cracked.

“Clyde,” Craig replied in his normal, bored voice.

“Is…I-is he asking about the homework?” Tweek asked, trying to read any emotion from Craig’s face.

“No, because I’m pretty sure we’re the only people in South Park even doing the homework,” Craig replied, clicking off his phone and shoving it away from him. He glanced up at Tweek who was barely concealing his shaking and reaching for his bangs.

“Hey, what did we agree about hair?”

“Oh…” Tweek realized, pulling his hand back and sitting on it.

Craig looked at him, and Tweek wondered if he was going to yell.

“I’m hungry,” he eventually said. “Would you help me make lunch?”

Before Tweek could answer, Craig grabbed his hand and pulled him up.

“Wah-what do you want?”

Craig opened the fridge and looked inside briefly before pulling out a couple slices of cheese. “Grilled cheese.”

Craig’s parents weren’t home for most of the day. Laura was a bank teller and Thomas was in construction. Both were deemed essential services. Tweek worried about them being out with the virus, but a part of him was secretly relieved he could more easily avoid awkward interactions with Thomas.

Craig laid out the bread and Tweek buttered the face of each, carefully going all the way to the crust.

He couldn’t be sure what Clyde was texting Craig about. Clyde had a lot of thoughts and was completely within his rights as a best friend to share those with Craig. The two had been friends long before Token ever moved to South Park or Jimmy had gone to their school or Tweek had been shoehorned into their group by the Asian girls. Tweek suspected there were lots of topics Clyde talked to Craig about, and he had absolutely no reason at all to believe anything Clyde was saying was in reference to him.

Well, that was, except for the conversations Clyde had had with Tweek himself present.

Since Craig and Tweek had started “dating”, Craig’s friends always made an effort to include him, even though he knew they didn’t really think he fit in their group. He couldn’t be quick or witty. He had a hard enough time getting his own thoughts straight to ever be funny like Jimmy. He wasn’t kind and smart like Token, or lively and adventurous like Clyde. The group didn’t need him, and there wasn’t anything he could provide to improve upon their already solid friendships. Still, they included him all the same, which meant not only an addition to their group, but a dynamic change.

Tweek suspected any time there was a couple in a group of friends, it led to teasing, and he and Craig were no different. While Token usually was too polite, Clyde and Jimmy had no problem asking Tweek and Craig intimate questions or putting them on the spot with “fun” suggestions. Craig usually let the ribbing roll off his back with a raised finger or a “fuck off”, but Tweek internalized.

Craig wasn’t gay. Craig was pretending to be gay so the town wouldn’t be sad, and the longer he pretended to be gay, the harder it would be to convince people he wasn’t gay when he inevitably broke up with Tweek. And even if Craig _was_ gay, he could definitely do better than Tweek. Having people think he was sleeping with Tweek could only be hurting Craig’s reputation.

But what bothered Tweek the most was that Craig couldn’t be himself, even with the people closest to him. It was one thing if strangers on the street thought they were a couple, but Clyde was Craig’s best friend, even if Craig would never admit it out loud. If Craig had to hide who he was with Clyde…

“That’s probably enough butter, babe.”

Tweek looked up with a start. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts he had lost track of what he was doing.

“You okay?” Craig asked, gently bumping his shoulder against Tweek’s.

Tweek let out a soft sound of acknowledgment and handed the bread to Craig.

Craig put the sandwiches in the pan and the butter sizzled.

“Craig?”

“Mm?”

Tweek bit his lip and willed himself not to pull his hair.

“Does it bother you that Clyde thinks we’ve had sex?”

Tweek thought he could see Craig’s shoulders tighten, just slightly, but it was only for a second before he regained his composer.

“Does it bother you?”

“I asked you first.”

“No. It doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you?”

When Tweek didn’t answer right away, Craig turned his head slightly with a raised eyebrow.

“N-no, I mean, I-I don’t care what people think-”

“Good. You shouldn’t. Especially Clyde.”

“Buh-but, he’s your best friend…”

Craig snorted and pulled a couple plates out of the cupboard and put the sandwiches on them.

“Tweek, Clyde isn’t exactly a relationship guru. How many times have he and Bebe broken up? We could go count the tear and snot stains on my jacket if you’d like.”

“Yeah, but at least he like… gets to kiss her and stuff!” Tweek huffed, frustrated he couldn’t properly express just how much he was depriving Craig of by simply existing. “I mean…don’t you want to like, kiss a girl?”

“I’ve kissed a girl,” Craig responded, his mask of indifference not budging.

Tweek blinked rapidly, surprised.

“Yo-you have?”

“Yeah. Millie Larsen in kindergarten.”

“Oh,” Tweek mumbled, looking down at his shaking hands. He wanted Craig to say something, but he didn’t.

“Do you…miss it?” Tweek finally asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’m pining after Millie Larsen. Haven’t you seen the shrine in my closet?” Craig asked. His voice didn’t waver, but Tweek could tell he was attempting sarcasm.

“No! I mean…girls. Kissing girls. In general. Is it…good?”

Craig paused and seemed to think for a minute.

“Well, it’s better than statistics homework, but not as good as grilled cheese. Somewhere between those two extremes,” he finally replied, handing the plated sandwich to Tweek.

* * *

The second half of the day passed by less quickly than the first. Tweek found it more and more difficult to focus on his school work between thoughts of Clyde’s messages and Millie Larsen. He was so distracted, he didn’t realize how late they had been working until he saw Craig tentatively eyeing his watch. It was nearly 4.

“You should go,” Tweek offered, trying to make his voice light. “Red Racer’s starting soon.”

“Do you want to come?” Craig asked, immediately closing his book, presumably before Tweek could change his mind and demand he continue doing his World History assignment.

“I’ll be up in a couple minutes. Just want to finish this paragraph,” Tweek replied, and forced a smile.

Craig nodded and practically ran from the room.

As soon as he was gone, Tweek couldn’t contain it anymore. His hand reached up and started tugging at his bangs.

_You’re ruining his entire high school career. You’re ruining his life. Most teenage boys are off dating and he’s left babysitting you. What’s wrong with you? You’re a waste of sp-_

“Why do you do that?”

Tweek quickly spun around to see Tricia standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Oh…uh…it’s-nnn-a habit.”

Tricia gave him a look of slight disapproval but changed the subject.

“If my parents ask, can you say I stayed down here with you and Craig and worked?”

Tweek nodded quickly, his hand still grasping his bangs. He wasn’t pulling anymore, but his knuckles whitened from the pressure.

“Cool,” Tricia replied, walking to the cupboard and grabbing a Fruit Roll-up. “Is it like a stress thing? Pulling your hair.”

“Oh..uh…”

“Craig says you have anxiety,” Tricia offered with the same cool demeanor as her older brother. She sat down at the table across form him. “It’s cool though. He doesn’t care – in like a good way. Not, like, a Craig way.”

Tweek gave another sharp nod but said nothing.

“Here,” Tricia offered, reaching up to grab Tweek’s balled up fist. She gently untangled his fingers, then pulled a sparkly green clip from her own hair and pinned back his bangs.

“There,” she said, giving a satisfied nod. “Now it won’t be hanging in your face for you to pull.”

Tweek reached his fingers up and touched the clip gently.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tweek,” Tricia added, standing from the table and walking to the door. She turned in the doorway and gave him a small smile.

“I really don’t know what my brother would do without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :) Please stay inside. Please stay safe. Please stay healthy. All my love <3


	3. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With nothing but restless energy, Tweek tries to clean Craig's room and is forced to deal with a cardboard demon from their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm finally posting this chapter. Fingers crossed the next chapter gets published tonight as well.
> 
> I don't own these characters, nor do I own Billy Joel's music, but gosh, can you imagine if I did?

“Do you think I should-nnn-make pancakes, too?”

“I think waffles are good, babe.”

“I, for one, definitely think you should make pancakes, too.”

“Tricia,” Craig said, warningly, giving his sister a glare as she grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate. She gave him a grin and flipped him off before turning back to her phone.

It was Saturday morning and Tweek had gotten up particularly early with the intention of cooking breakfast for Craig’s parents. When Craig had come downstairs at 8:30, he had found Tweek covered in flour and running in circles, with six separate dishes on the go.

“Th-they work so hard all week and they’re letting me st-stay here so I wanted to-”

“My mother’ll have a heart attack if she sees this place,” Craig had grinned, rubbing sleep out of his eye.

“Gah! Oh my god, I d-di-” Tweek had spluttered, stopping what he was doing and turning in circles, overwhelmed by the mess he had made.

‘It’s cool,” Craig had replied, turning on the sink and grabbing a towel. “I’ll wash. Your sausages are burning.”

With Craig cleaning up after him, it had been easier for Tweek to focus on finishing his dishes. Tweek had not slept for the past week, and his anxieties had bubbled to the surface and spilled over the edge of mania. He could not seem to focus his mind on anything, and the constant racing of thoughts was making him even more stressed, in some kind of terrible anxiety feedback loop.

Tweek had thought that by directing some of his nervous energy into positive, goal oriented tasks, like cooking breakfast, he could burn some of it off, but instead he had found it difficult to focus on just one task, continually coming up with new ideas and recipes before finishing the ones he had started.

Still, it was easier with Craig around. Tweek wondered, not for the first time, if Craig radiated calm the same way the sun radiated heat – able to instill its energy in others as long as they stay close to it; leaving them cold and shaking when they aren’t.

If Tweek had his way, he would always be around Craig and his calm, but if Craig radiated peace, then Tweek radiated chaos, and that wouldn’t be a very fair trade at all.

By the time Tricia had come downstairs, Craig had the kitchen clean, more or less, and Tweek had finished cooking enough food to feed a fleet.

“I just, should have asked you if your parents like waffles, o-or if they like _pancakes_ …” Tweek mumbled more to himself than either of the Tucker children and reached for his hair.

“ _I_ like pancakes,” Tricia volunteered.

Craig snapped his towel in his sister’s general direction. His hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, and he used his forearm to brush it away. Tweek watched him. It didn’t really seem fair that Craig could roll out of bed, do strenuous activity, and still look the way he did.

“Fridge broken or something?” Thomas asked from the doorway with a yawn. “Why’d you cook up all the food in the house?”

Tweek opened his mouth, an apology ready on his lips, but Craig cut him off, turning around from the sink and wiping his hands with a towel.

“Tweek wanted to do something nice for you and mom.”

As if on cue, Laura Tucker followed her husband into the kitchen.

“What is _this_?” she asked, feigning surprise like someone who had not heard exactly what this was on the other side of the doorway.

“We have produced this for you,” Tricia answered, waving her arm across the kitchen, gesturing to the food.

“Uh, ‘we’? You didn’t help,” Craig scowled.

“Fuck you, I provided valuable feedback on menu options, right Tweek?”

“Tricia, language,” Laura scolded, walking over to Tweek. She gently gave him a kiss on top of his head, next to his green clip. “Thank you, Tweek. This is a lovely surprise. Your mother is very lucky. My kids never help out in the kitchen.”

Craig threw out his arms, one of which was still holding a washcloth, pointing at himself with disbelief.

“I provide _you_ with valuable feedback, too,” Tricia mumbled, scooping some scrambled eggs onto her plate.

“‘This is gross, what else is there to eat?’ is not valuable, darling,” Laura smiled at her daughter.

* * *

After breakfast, Laura shooed them all out of the kitchen, assuring them she would finish cleaning up, which made Tweek feel a little guilty. He had meant the breakfast to be a present and a comfort for the Tucker family, not more work.

Thomas parked himself on the couch in the front room and turned on the news. As seemed to be the most recent trend, Garrison appeared on the screen, yelling about something, with banners below describing how the president was still claiming the virus was a hoax to try and make sure he didn’t get re-elected.

The few times Tweek could lull himself to sleep, Garrison would appear in his nightmare, asking about his approval rating and sneezing into his hand. Sometimes he was surrounded by tiny gnomes dressed as special service.

Still, whenever the president appeared on the TV, Tweek couldn’t bring himself to look away. Not because he believed him or hoped he would change his mind. No, it was more like a scab that you keep picking at, even though you know the skin beneath has yet to heal.

“Come on,” Craig coaxed gently, grabbing Tweek’s hand and pulling him away from the TV. “Clyde and Jimmy wanna play Mario Kart.”

Tweek let Craig drag him upstairs, and even sat with him on the bed for a few tournaments before he couldn’t sit still anymore. He had so much leftover energy, he felt like his whole body was buzzing. Without warning, Tweek jumped to his feet, startling both Craig and Strip 5, who was, until that moment, enjoying a pleasant nap on Craig’s chest.

“Can I clean your room?” Tweek practically yelled at Craig.

“…oh..kay?” Craig responded, torn between confused and concerned. “Everything okay?”

Tweek nodded, already picking up clothes and throwing them in the hamper. “Just stir crazy.”

Craig watched him for another few seconds, but eventually turned back to his game, in which he was now coming in last.

It didn’t take long to clean Craig’s floor and under his bed. All things equal, Craig was pretty clean for a seventeen-year-old boy, and he kept his room pretty well organized. Tweek was worrying that this endeavor would end quickly and not give him very much relief at all. Then he got to the closet.

As soon as Tweek opened the closet door, he was hit with a literal wave of nostalgia. Everything Craig had ever played with and dubbed too important or too much trouble to throw out spilled out, nearly knocking Tweek over.

Tweek turned in stunned silence to look at Craig. He made his eyes wide and gestured around him as if to say, “what the fuck?” but Craig just grinned and shrugged, barely tearing his eyes away from his TV.

Tweek took a deep breath and sat cross legged on the floor, surrounded by models of spaceships, Harry Potter books, old school textbooks, VHS tapes of animals with wide angle lenses, and various sports gear.

He started to sort through it, smiling and laughing. After an hour or so, Craig walked over and sat down across from Tweek, their knees nearly touching.

“What are you doing?” Tweek asked. He could feel himself already feeling calmer. His shaking had stopped, and he was able to focus on the relics from Craig’s childhood.

“Well, you just looked like you were having so much fun over here,” Craig replied. His voice was emotionless, but Tweek thought he could see a small smile.

“But I thought you were playing Clyde.”

“Fuck Clyde.”

“I dunno…” Tweek suddenly grinned wide and reached behind him to a pile he had been making and presented a framed picture. The frame said Best Friends Forever and encased a picture of Craig and Clyde, looking about four or five. They were standing in front of South Park Elementary, Clyde with a huge smile (short a tooth or two) on his face, and Craig with folded arms.

“I don’t think that’s a very nice thing to say about your best friend forever.”

Craig’s cheeks reddened and he made a grab for the picture. Tweek leaned back, giggling.

“His mom gave it to me. The fuck was I supposed to do?” Craig asked, reaching across Tweek’s body. He grabbed Tweek’s arm and held it still so he could grab at the frame. Tweek’s skin felt warm and prickly where Craig held it, and he gave in when Craig got a hold of the picture. Craig held his arm for a second longer, still leaning over him, their bodies nearly flush, and Tweek’s heart began to race again. He worried Craig was close enough to actually feel it.

Craig leaned back to his sitting position and threw the picture aside, pulling up one of his old model rockets for inspection, so Tweek went back to his hunt. He pulled out an old school backpack, and reached a hand in. He felt multiple pieces of crumpled up paper and something hard and plastic. He turned the bag upside down and the hard-plastic box fell out. Tweek picked it up for a closer look and realized it was Craig’s retainer box.

“Ew!” Tweek screeched, with a giggle, tossing the box into Craig’s lap. “Why did you keep that?”

“Uh, to maintain my dazzling smile?” Craig suggested, opening the case.

“You don’t smile.”

“Well, maybe that’s because I haven’t had my retainer.”

Craig pulled out the tiny plastic mould of the roof of his mouth.

“Do you dare me to put this in?”

“Ew! No, I do not.”

“Come on, five dollars and I’ll do it,” Craig grinned, showing his perfectly straight teeth.

“But I don’t want you to do it,” Tweek giggled, scooting away. “Get away from me with that thing.”

“Nah, embrace the orthodontics,” Craig laughed, waving the retainer at the blond while crawling towards him. Tweek fell back laughing as Craig positioned himself over the boy, waving the pink plastic close to Tweek’s face. If Craig hadn’t felt Tweek’s racing heart before, he was sure he could feel it now. Hell, he could probably hear it.

 _He’s going to kiss you_ , a voice in Tweek’s head said without warning, and he stopped giggling. He closed his eyes shut and turned his head away. Where did that even come from? Why would Craig kiss him?

Tweek felt Craig move. He peeked his eyes open to see Craig had returned to his sitting position and was now rummaging through the backpack, the retainer now sitting next to the picture of him and Clyde.

 _He wouldn’t_ , Tweek thought. _No one would want to kiss someone like you. Least of all Craig._

Tweek couldn’t really deny that Craig _did_ have a dazzling smile. That, combined with his tall frame and broad shoulders, and Tweek could see why Craig attracted so much female attention. By the time Craig got his braces off in ninth grade, Tweek had noticed, more than once, girls turning their heads to stare at his fake boyfriend or whisper, “Why are the good ones always gay or taken?”

It wasn’t like it had never occurred to Tweek that he found Craig attractive. It had. He had even wondered if this meant he was gay for real, and not just playing up some ruse they started when they were ten, but he couldn’t identify any other person, male or female, who made his stomach flip like Craig did, so it was hard to tell.

Tweek figured there was no point wasting too much thought on the matter. Even if he _was_ gay, Craig wasn’t. And even if _Craig_ was gay, he could do better than _Tweek_. If Craig could garner attention from most girls who saw him, surely other gay men would want him too.

_Maybe when he goes off to college he’ll find a really handsome boyfriend who can control his emotions and doesn’t annoy him with anxiety attacks._

The thought of Craig holding some other boy’s hand at college made a lump form in Tweek’s throat. He swallowed hard, and the lump fell down and sat like a stone in his stomach.

“Hey, check it out.”

Tweek looked up from his thoughts to see Craig pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his bag. He unfolded it against his knee and held it up to his chest. It was a hand drawn “S”

“I’m Super Craig,” Craig said, lowering his voice an octave and sticking his fist in the air.

Tweek forced a smile, turning back to the closet, as Craig chuckled, looking back down at the “S”.

“Wow, that was such a dumb game.”

“I liked it,” Tweek replied, defensively.

“I know, that’s why I played.” Craig returned to rooting through the papers in the backpack.

Tweek was about to ask him what that meant when something caught his eye. Pushed to the furthest corner of the closet was a large cardboard box with the words “DO NOT DISTURB” written on it. Tweek reached his arm into the closet and pulled the box out towards him. Stamped on the bottom of the cardboard was a tiny picture of Buddha with the words “buddha box”. A flood of emotions filled Tweek as he held the box in his hands.

* * *

At first it had just seemed weird. Craig had shown up to school with a box on his head. It certainly wasn’t the strangest thing to happen in South Park, but it still threw Tweek for a loop. They had been in a fake relationship for nearly a year and from what Tweek could tell, though his knowledge of relationships was admittedly lacking, it had been going fine. They sat together at lunch. They played video games after school. Whenever there was a class project, they picked each other for partners, which Tweek found to be a welcomed relief from worrying no one would choose him.

So, when Craig didn’t show up to walk with Tweek to school, breaking their normal routine, Tweek had, naturally, assumed he had been hit by a bus.

And then, when Tweek had arrived at school to find Craig already there, and wearing a box on his head no less, it had struck Tweek as weird.

He remembered walking up to Craig and asking if he was okay but getting no reply. He waved his arms in front of the box but didn’t get an answer. He had called Clyde over, who had given the box a hard smack, and only received a raised middle finger in response.

By the time the bell rang, Tweek had started to wonder if this was the end – if a box on the head was how Craig had decided to break up with him. Then he got a text message.

**have a good day babe <3**

By the time soccer had rolled around that evening, Tweek was seeing more and more people wearing these stupid boxes, and he started to worry this was some kind of alien invasion. What if normal people were being replaced with pod people, or rather, box people.

He had heard a few adults suggest the boxes were a Buddhist cure for anxiety, but that didn’t make sense. Tweek had anxiety _and_ he was Buddhist, and no one had ever suggested he wear a box on his head.

He had suspected, like most terrible things that happen in South Park, that Stan’s gang was responsible, a theory only solidified when Cartman wore a box to the game and Kyle yelled at him.

Tweek had continued to text Craig and received no response. He invited Craig over to watch Red Racer or Star Trek, but was rejected every time. He had even gone to a counselling session with the doctor who prescribed Craig the box but got no answers. In a desperate attempt to help whatever was hurting Craig, Tweek sucked up his pride and approached Cartman.

He had had to set up an appointment via email, but eventually Cartman had lifted his box enough to make eye contact with Tweek.

“Wh-why?” Tweek had asked. “Why is Craig in a box? Does he ha-aa-ave anxiety, too?”

“Duh, of course he does,” Cartman had replied. “He probably caught it from you.”

The thought had made Tweek pull out his hair in chunks.

“No one wants to take care of a crazy nutcase all the time, Tweek. You probably broke him with all your spazzing. Just leave him alone.”

And Tweek had.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt Craig. That was the last thing he wanted. Craig always took care of him, and all Tweek did was make Craig want to hide from him.

Tweek stopped texting. He stopped calling. He cut himself out of Craig’s life so Craig could heal. He withdrew into himself and the voices in his head got louder. Every insecurity and self hatred he had tried to resist sprouted back up with a vengeance.

And then one day, as suddenly as it had started, Craig was waiting outside Tweek’s house for him, with a hand outstretched, waiting to walk him to school.

Tweek hadn’t seen the Buddha Box since.

* * *

“Hey, do you think Clyde still has that stupid mosq-…Tweek?”

Tweek looked up from the box to see Craig looking at him with concern. Craig’s eyes flicked down to the box in Tweek’s hands and suddenly softened.

“Oh.”

“I-it was just in the closet,” Tweek tried to explain, as if he was holding something he shouldn’t. As if the Buddha Box knew what a terrible fake boyfriend Tweek was and was here to judge him.

Craig gently took it from Tweek’s hands as if it was a loaded gun.

“I thought I threw that out,” Craig mumbled, his cheeks reddening with shame.

The two sat in silence for a couple minutes.

“M-Maybe you thought you’d need it again,” Tweek suggested softly. He reached for his bangs but touched the metal clip instead.

“No.”

Tweek bit his lip and looked away. “Well, I mean you can’t be sure with anxiety. I know I-”

“Tweek, I don’t have anxiety. I was eleven and I was an asshole.”

Tweek didn’t say anything, instead tracing his finger along the wood of Craig’s floor. He felt bad the mood of the closet cleaning had dropped, but he couldn’t seem to shake off the depression creeping up in his chest.

“Cartman said you caught my anxiety,” Tweek finally mumbled, and he could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“You’re gonna believe him over me?”

“Well, you never told me why!” Tweek finally yelled, and he could feel his voice break. His eyes were getting wetter, and he turned his head away to try and hide it.

Craig shifted uncomfortably, seeming like he was unsure if he should reach out or not.

“I felt like I kept saying the wrong thing.”

Tweek continued to look down at his lap, but silently willed Craig to go on.

Craig took a deep breath, and Tweek wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of exasperation or not.

“I was like…I was suddenly someone’s boyfriend, but I couldn’t fix your problems. And everyone in town was watching me and waiting for me to fix your problems and I…just…couldn’t…”

Tweek sniffed and wiped his eye on the back of his sleeve.

“And I just thought, if I could shut it off for a while, like everyone needing me to be something, I’d be happier. But I wasn’t. I was fucking miserable. I mean it was great at first, but then you stopped answering my texts, so it’s like, I was still messing up, ya know? And then I started to get nervous, like what if you had a panic attack and I wasn’t there. Or what if Marsh or Cartman or someone messed with you. And then Token started sending me all these texts about how I’m an asshole and how I’m so bad at communication and how healthy relationships blah, blah, blah, so I just I took it off and thought I threw it away, but apparently I didn’t, cause here we a-”

“Boys!” Laura called from downstairs. “Supper time!”

* * *

They didn’t talk much the rest of the day. After supper Craig went back to his room to resume playing video games and Tweek had taken his keyboard to the basement.

Hours later he was still poking at the keys half-heartedly. He wasn’t mad at Craig. Craig deserved a break. Everyone did. If Craig had just said that, he would have understood.

_No you wouldn’t. You’d make it about you. You always make it about you. No wonder he doesn’t want to trust you with his emotions. He thinks you’re a burden._

Tweek sighed. No. He understood. Craig deserved to have his own problems and it wasn’t a reflection on Tweek or their fake relationship.

He softly started playing the melody of Vienna.

“Slow down you crazy child, take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile,” he sang softly to himself, slightly off key. “It’s alright, you can afford to lose a day or two.”

That’s all Craig was doing. He had needed a break. Everyone does. Maybe Cartman was wrong and Tweek hadn’t broken Craig, maybe he had just been worn out.

“And you know that when the truth is told, that you can get what you want or you can just get old.”

Tweek stopped his fingers. Is that was Craig was doing? Just getting old? Surely _this_ wasn’t what he wanted – to be stuck in a fake relationship with someone who required constant supervision and who burned him out and made him retreat into a box.

 _“What if you had a panic attack and I wasn’t there?”_ Craig had asked. That was how he saw Tweek. A chore he would get in trouble for shirking.

Tweek slammed his forehead down on the keys making a horrible sound. He just wanted his mind to quiet. It was so loud. Everything was so loud.

He unplugged his keyboard and wrapped the cord around it. It was late and even though he knew he wouldn’t sleep, he still didn’t want to be up alone when he should be in bed. He slowly trekked up the stairs to Craig’s bedroom. The light was already off and Craig was rolled facing away from the door.

Tweek carefully placed the keyboard on Craig’s desk and climbed down onto his air mattress.

He wasn’t there a minute when he heard, “Tweek?”

Tweek bit his tongue. He couldn’t very well fake sleep, Craig had just heard him come to bed. And anyway, they weren’t in a fight, so he shouldn’t be scared to talk to Craig. The dull outline of the Buddha Box, still on the ground by the closet, stared back at him, judging.

“Yeah,” Tweek answered in a soft voice. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to go to sleep. He heard Craig roll around in bed to face the side with the air mattress.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Tweek answered again, in the same pinched voice.

“What time is it?” Craig asked. His voice sounded groggy.

“I don’t know.”

Craig picked up his phone from his bedside table and groaned.

“It’s 3. Why are you awake at 3?”

“I don’t know.”

Craig was silent for a minute, and Tweek wondered if he had grown bored of his petulant answers.

“Tweek, when’s the last time you slept?”

Without warning or intention, Tweek let out a soft sob. Between the resurrection of the Buddha Box and his manic highs and depressive lows over the past 24 hours, Tweek could no longer hold what little composure he had.

“Tweek, come up here.”

“No,” Tweek answered, choked by sobs.

“Tweek, come up here. You’re crying.”

“What if someone sees me in your bed?”

“Then I’m sure the town of South Park will hold a fucking parade. Come up here.”

Tweek didn’t answer, instead focusing on trying to control his breathing and stop his tears. He heard a sigh and then the sound of Craig’s bed springs as Craig got up. He felt a warm body lie next to him on the mattress, and a strong arm turn him around.

His leaking face pressed into Craig’s chest. _“See?”_ he wanted to say _“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m totally self sufficient.”_ He wanted to push Craig away. He wanted to stop being a burden.

But he couldn’t.

Craig was like the sun, and even as he hated himself for it, he felt his tears evaporating and his breathing slow as he soaked him up.

Craig ran his fingers up and down Tweek’s back gently.

“I’m sorry about the Buddha Box.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Tweek hiccuped back.

“I’m not sorry because I think you’re mad. I’m sorry because I shouldn’t have done it. It was selfish.”

“I-I’m always selfish,” Tweek whispered, letting out another sob.

Craig flattened his palm to Tweek’s back and pulled him closer.

“You’re the least selfish person I know,” Craig mumbled into Tweek’s hair.

They lay in relative silence – Craig running his hand up and down Tweek’s back, Tweek fighting to breathe deeply.

“We should set that box on fire,” Craig said after a couple minutes.

“And thu-throw it at Cartman.”

Craig laughed, and Tweek ventured a look up at him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Craig asked, his face serious but his voice gentle.

“’Cause the world is ending,” Tweek answered, though his tears and hiccups had slowed considerably.

“Nah.”

“What do you mean, ‘nah’?!”

“Nah.”

“Craig this is a serious pandemic.”

“I think Garrison’s got it under control,” Craig chuckled and yawned.

It suddenly became clear to Tweek that Craig had been waiting for Tweek to come up from the basement to go to sleep, and now he was losing his own battle with fatigue.

“You should get back in your bed if you’re gonna sleep.”

“I’m good,” Craig answered, and rubbed his face in Tweek’s hair. “You should sleep though.”

Tweek didn’t answer. Anything he’d say would be moot.

“What would help you get to sleep?” Craig asked, his voice drowsy.

“Nothing.”

“I could get Stan Marsh to bring us some weed.”

Tweek snorted knowing it wasn’t a serious suggestion. He had only ever tried pot once, at Clyde’s fourteenth birthday, and it had somehow made him even more anxious. Besides, it would be a cold day in hell before Craig asked Stan Marsh for a favour.

“Just talk about something,” Tweek suggested. He didn’t think it would help him sleep, but he liked to hear Craig talk.

“Like what?”

“I dunno…your space camp?”

“Well, as I am not 8, I don’t go to space camp anymore. But my _Advanced Space Academy_ is in Alabama and is awesome. And if someone would ever leave South Park, he’d know that.”

Tweek smiled and sniffed back the last of his tears.

“Is Alabama nice?”

Craig shrugged and let out a grunt.

“Not as nice as Texas.”

Craig and his family had gone to Texas two summers ago, and Tweek had heard all about the wonders of the lone star state since then. Still, he wasn’t opposed to hearing about them again.

“What’s good about Texas?”

“Well, it’s where the Johnson Space Center is and the rodeo and steak…” Craig’s voice trailed off and Tweek could tell he was falling asleep.

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah, after college, maybe I’ll buy us a house out there…”

Tweek’s body jerked, and Craig blinked, startled.

“Us?” Tweek hissed in the dark.

“Or…me…whatever…I’ll buy myself a house there,” Craig mumbled, rolling his eyes before closing them again.

As Craig’s breathing evened out into sleep, he continued to hold Tweek to his chest. For Tweek, however, the feeling of comfort was gone and replaced by a familiar pit in his stomach. One thing had become very clear.

Even in his ideal future, somewhere far away from South Park, Craig couldn’t see an outlook where he wouldn’t be forced to take care of Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to anyone still reading. Shout out to Joy who has dutifully stayed up with me past midnight almost every night this week (even though we are both adults with jobs) to give me both support and ideas. I hope you guys like this chapter. More to come soon because I love writing them! Stay safe <3


	4. Day 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek still isn't sleeping, so Craig decides to tell him a bedtime story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. It's Saturday, and you know what that means: I can stay up all night writing and not feel as guilty as when I do the same thing on a week night!
> 
> I don't own these characters, but I am prepared to duel for them. Enjoy! :)

**_Kyle Broflovski added Stan Marsh to the group_ **

**_Kyle Broflovski added Kenny McCormick to the group_ **

**Kenny:** yooooo

**_Kyle Broflovski added Token Black to the group_ **

**_Kyle Broflovski added Tweek Tweak to the group_ **

**Kenny:** wat is this?

**_Kyle Broflovski added Jimmy Valmer to the group_ **

**Stan:** hi guys

**_Kyle Broflovski changed the name of the group to_ Quarantine Study Group**

**Kyle:** Hi everyone, I just wanted to make a group chat so we could have a space to talk about the homework assignments we have. I know there’s a lot and this is probably a stressful time for some people, so this seemed like a good way for everyone to stay on top of everything.

 **Kenny:** LMAO

 **Kenny:** pass

 **Kenny:** ✌🏻

 **Token:** Why was I added to this?

 **Kyle:** You’re one of the best students in the class, so I thought you would be interested.

 **Kenny:** then why 🤔 is butters not here? 🤔

 **Kyle:** Too many people make a group chat too busy. ****

**_Kenny McCormick added Butters Stotch to the group chat_ **

**Kyle:** Or cool, do whatever

 **Kenny:** ✌🏻

 **Jimmy:** you gave Kenny admin rights? 👀

 **Kyle:** What? How do you take away admin rights?

 **Jimmy:** 👀 👀

**_Jimmy Valmer added Clyde Donovan to the group_ **

**Butters:** Hi Fellas! Is everyone staying safe and healthy?

**_Jimmy Valmer added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**Clyde:** HEEEYYY QUARAN-TEENS

**_Craig Tucker left the group_ **

**_Clyde Donovan added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**Kyle:** Great. Awesome. Now the entire class is in the group.

 **Kenny:** ✌🏻

 **Butters:** Where’s Eric? Did you forget to add him?

 **Kyle:** Butters I swear to God if you add him to this group I will block you.

 **Kenny:** yikes someone is not handling the pandemic well

 **Clyde:** IM HANDLING QUARANTINE WELL

 **Token:** That is not true.

 **Jimmy:** 😂😂😂

 **Kenny:** GOOD FOR YOU CLYDE

 **Clyde:** THANKS KENNY

 **Stan:** guys Kyle made this chat cause he wanted to study without focusing on the virus thing

 **Kenny:** guys lets talk about the virus thing!

 **Jimmy:** show of hands whos bored

 **Token:** ✋🏾

 **Kenny:** 🖐🏻

 **Craig:** of the virus or of this chat?

 **Clyde:** ✋🏻✋🏻

 **Butters:** Me!

 **Stan:** ok guys this is off track

 **Clyde:** did you guys see garrison on tv this morning?? he said he knew about this virus before anyone even heard of it 😂🤣

 **Token:** It’s like he legitimately doesn’t understand what’s going on.

 **Kenny:** garrison 🙃 was always 🙃 a fucking moron 🙃

 **Butters:** You all should watch something fun on TV instead!

 **Clyde:** i binged tiger king and now i want a tiger 😭🥺

 **Stan:** dude you did not understand that doc at all…

 **Kenny:** why has tweek been typing for like 15 minutes 😂 press enter tweek!

 **Kyle:** Have any of you watched Love is Blind?

 **Craig:** gay

 **Kenny:** @Kyle Broflovski um excuse me sir this is a study group im really gonna need you to focus up

 **Butters:** I’ll give those a chance because I need to distract myself.

 **Butters:** I never realized how much I touch my face until I wasn’t allowed to anymore…

 **Kenny:** aww leo youll be fine dont worry about it

 **Kyle:** Uh, Kenny?? You can contract the virus that way?? Don’t tell Butters he will be fine touching his face??

**Kenny:**

**Kyle:** Fine. Die then.

 **Jimmy:** crazy liberals tryna push the don’t touch your face agenda

 **Kyle:** Fuck all of you. You’ve ruined the study group.

 **Clyde:** umm???excuse me??i was not even in the original stufy group

 **Clyde:** so fuck yoooou

**_Clyde Donovan changed the name of the group to_ party of exclusion**

**_Clyde Donovan changed Kyle Broflovski’s name to_ emporer of exclusion**

**emporer of exclusion:** Cool. Whatever.

 **Token:** That’s not how you spell emperor

 **Jimmy:** it’s becoming more clear why Clyde wasn’t invited to the study group 😂

* * *

Tweek’s thumbs trembled over the screen of his phone. He could do this. He _wanted_ to do this. But every time he formulated a message, the group conversation diverted to some new topic, and he had to erase and start over. He knew if he joined a conversation late he would get made fun of and maybe even blocked from the group. Then everyone would know he didn’t belong in it in the first place.

He stared intently at his screen, waiting to jump into whatever the new conversational topic. Just then the phone started to buzz, startling Tweek into dropping it.

He hurriedly grabbed at the phone and checked it for cracks or dents. It was still buzzing, and when he refocused his eyes on the screen, he saw a smiling picture of Token looking up at him.

_He’s calling to ask why you aren’t acting normal in the group chat._

Tweek took a deep breath and slid his finger to unlock the phone.

“H-hello?”

“Hey Tweek,” Token’s cheery voice greeted him. “How you doin’, buddy?”

“I-I’m fine,” Tweek responded, shakily. It wasn’t unusual for Token to message or call him privately. As the “mom” of Craig’s gang (a moniker assigned by Clyde), Token took his position very seriously.

“What you up to?” Token asked, his voice having slightly more concern in it. He clearly could hear the shake in Tweek’s voice.

“J-just…watching the news.”

“Aww, Tweek, that stuff is garbage. You should turn it off. Where’s Craig?”

Tweek felt guilty. He could tell just from the way Token asked that there was a slight accusation pointed at Craig. _“Why isn’t Craig with you to protect you from the big scary world out there?”_ Token probably wanted to ask.

“He went to pick up the pizza for supper,” Tweek replied, in Craig’s defence.

“Oh, okay.”

Tweek looked at his phone but said nothing. Why was Token calling? Had Craig told him he hadn’t been sleeping? It had been two weeks since the quarantine started, and Tweek could count on both hands the number of solid hours he had slept in that time. He knew it was taking a toll on his mental health. He knew his anxiety was getting out of control. His normal techniques weren’t working anymore, and Tweek was starting to feel like he would never feel normal again.

“So,” Token sighed, breaking Tweek from his thoughts. “Two more weeks of this. You think you can handle it?”

 _“It won’t just be two!”_ Tweek wanted to yell into the phone. Sure, the school board had extended the hiatus for another two weeks, but based on the trends in Canada and other countries, Tweek suspected it would be far longer.

“I-I guess,” Tweek stuttered, reaching up for his hair.

“Well, I’m glad you’re with Craig. I’m sure it’s a comfort to both of you.”

Tweek grunted out a response, still pulling his hair.

“So anyway,” Token continued. “Because we’re all stuck inside, I’ve had to cancel the plans for Nichole’s birthday next weekend.”

“Oh,” Tweek replied, his shaking stopping momentarily. His heart ached for Token. Tweek had seen how much effort he had put into planning over the last couple of months.

“Yeah.” Token sighed again. “It sucks. She was really excited to go into Denver and go to this fancy restaurant she loves and then go see a show.”

“What are you gonna do, now?” Tweek asked.

“What do you mean?” Token asked. “I mean, I got my money back, so I’ll just take her when everything reopens, I guess.”

“Oh,” Tweek responded, uncomfortably. He hadn’t meant to sound like he was judging Token’s plans for his girlfriend’s birthday – not when Token had been kind enough to check in on him.

“Why?” Token asked, his voice a little more eager. “Do you have a better idea?”

“N-no, I-I-”

“No, Tweek, if you have a better idea you have to tell me. I don’t want to go down in history as the worst boyfriend ever because I blew off my girlfriend’s seventeenth birthday,” Token pleaded. “Remember the party you threw for Craig? He loved it!”

“Loved it” might have been an exaggeration, Tweek thought. “Tolerated it” seemed more reasonable. When Craig had turned 16 Tweek had set up a surprise party for him in Token’s basement. He made sure to only invite Clyde, Token, and Jimmy, and didn’t let Stan’s gang have any idea it was happening. Clyde and Token had spent hours helping him redecorate the basement to look like the deck of the Starship Enterprise, and Jimmy had pirated a bunch of horror movies. They had stayed up all night, watching movies and eating junk food. Craig had even smiled a few times, especially whenever Clyde screamed at a jump scare. Tweek remembered falling asleep against Craig’s side, with Craig’s arm around his shoulders…

“Seriously man, please,” Token begged.

“W-well…I don’t know,” Tweek replied, shaken from his memory. “Uh…we could have a virtual party? We could order pizza to her house and your house and her friends’ houses and all eat it together.”

“Huh,” Token said, mulling it over. “I like it…but I don’t think she’d like just sitting around and talking to a computer screen while we all eat pizza…”

“Well, uh, then don’t just eat pizza,” Tweek suggested, a plan formulating more firmly in his mind. “Nichole likes board games, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, everyone could get that app where you can play boardgames at the same time, and it could be like a boardgame party…or…something…”

Token was quiet for a minute.

“Tweek…That is awesome! She would love that! You have to help me plan it,” Token sounded legitimately excited. “Okay, who do you think should be invited? I guess if we invite more than 6 people, we could just break off into groups and play different games. Do you think Clyde or Bebe could make a Spotify playlist for this? We could all listen to it!”

The door to Craig’s room creaked open and Craig poked his head in.

“Food’s here.”

“Hi Craig,” Token yelled through the speaker phone, still rattling off the to do list.

“Hi Token, talk to you some other time because food is here.”

“Alright,” Token said, in a considerably more enthusiastic mood than he was a few minutes ago. “Tweek, message me tomorrow and we will figure this all out. You’re the best!”

“Bye Token,” Craig called, a little more forcefully from down the hall.

* * *

Tweek tossed and turned on the air mattress, trying to find a comfortable position. He couldn’t sleep. He just couldn’t. Every time he tried his mind would quickly fill with thoughts of how bad it was that he couldn’t sleep.

 _Go to bed! Just go to bed!_ he’d think to himself. _If you go to bed, you’ll feel better. You’ll be less anxious._

But he couldn’t.

He rolled over and reached up to Craig’s bedside table to grab his phone. It lay next to Craig’s, his protective case feeling bulky compared to Craig’s novelty one with a picture of Stripe 4 on it.

Tweek pulled his phone down gently with the tips of his fingers and pressed the home button for the screen to light up. The lock screen illuminated to show more than 50 new notifications from the “party of exclusion” and the time.

1:32 am.

Tweek let out a soft groan and let his head fall backwards. He wondered if maybe he should go take a Benadryl but worried it could lead to him building up an immunity. What if he developed a late in life allergy and needed to take Benadryl, but it was ineffective, and he died?

“Tweek?”

Tweek dropped his phone and closed his eyes. Craig had been in a deep sleep since 10 pm, and Tweek didn’t want to be the reason for him not sleeping either.

“What are you doing?” Craig asked, and Tweek heard him sit up in bed.

“nnn-Nothing…j-just-”

Tweek heard Craig’s feet touch down on the ground between the bed and the air mattress. His heartbeat quickened, wondering if Craig was going to join him again, but he quickly felt a pang of guilt for that selfish wish. He knew Craig had had a terrible sleep the one night he had spent holding Tweek, because he had complained about how sore his back and neck were the whole next day.

Instead of lying down, however, he heard the footsteps walking away, and Tweek peaked his eyes open, just enough to see through his lashes. Craig had walked over to his desk chair and grabbed his jacket and hat. He walked to his closet and pulled out one of his old sweaters before walking back over to Tweek.

“Here,” he offered, holding out the sweater to Tweek. “Put this on.”

Tweek didn’t understand what was going on but didn’t have the energy to argue. He sat up and pulled the sweater over his head. Craig offered his hand, and Tweek took it, letting Craig lift him to a standing position.

Craig pulled his jacket on and tugged his old chullo over his bedhead. He grabbed his keys and wallet off his desk and walked to the door.

“Craig,” Tweek hissed. “Your parents-”

“Won’t know if they don’t hear us, so shut up,” Craig finished, though he was making no discernible effort to whisper.

He led Tweek down the stairs and out the front door to his Pinto. He opened Tweek’s door before walking around to the driver’s side. Tweek climbed in carefully. No sooner had he buckled his seatbelt than Craig was backing out of the driveway.

“Where are we-nnn-going,” Tweek asked, reaching for his hair. Craig let go of the stick to catch it.

“Dunno. Thought we could run away to Canada. They probably don’t have this virus up there,” Craig replied, focusing on the road, though they were the only car on it.

“They do! It’s all over the world Craig!”

“Another reason to be in space.”

Craig pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot – the only building still illuminated this late at night.

“What do you want?”

“Ca-nnn-can I have a coffee?”

“No. You cannot have a coffee. It’s 2 am.”

“I-I don’t want anything then,” Tweek said petulantly. Fast food wasn’t going to put him to sleep. At least coffee would help him feel more awake.

Craig rolled his eyes and drove up to the speaker.

“Hello, welcome to McDonald’s,” a voice greeted, though Tweek suspected it was less than thrilled to have a customer in the middle of the night. “What can I get for you?”

“Small coke, six piece nuggets, large fries, and a regular Creme Egg McFlurry,” Craig replied, counting out the change from his wallet.

Tweek’s ears perked up at the mention of the McFlurry. He had been so overwhelmed with everything going on, he hadn’t even realized how close Easter was.

“Sauce for the nuggets?”

“Barbeque,” Craig replied before pulling up to the next window.

Tweek sat, fiddling with the radio and car heater as Craig handed the cashier the money. He eyed the ice cream enviously as Craig took the tray and drove out of the line. Craig reached over and handed him the McFlurry.

“I said I didn’t want anything,” Tweek said, but took the cup and dug through the bag for the spoon all the same.

“You have one every year.”

Tweek didn’t argue further, taking a big spoonful of the sickeningly sweet dessert. He unwrapped the plastic straw and stuck it in the cola before handing the drink to Craig. Craig took a sip while turning out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of his house.

Tweek started to shake again.

“Wh-where are we going?”

“Just want to drive around a bit,” Craig replied, turning towards the elementary school.

“B-but if your parents wake up-”

“Tweek,” Craig said firmly, turning to look at him. “Trust me.”

They drove to the elementary school and Craig put the car into park. He unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. Tweek grabbed Craig’s arm in alarm.

“Wha-what are you doing?! We aren’t allowed-”

“Tweek, no one is around. No one has been around. I promise, it’s fine. Come on,” Craig gestured with his head for Tweek to come outside.

Tweek sat in the car a minute more, weighing the pros and cons. If he left the car he might be at risk for getting a disease that was killing hundreds of thousands of people, and he would _definitely_ be breaking the law. But if the virus was outside the car, then Craig probably already had it, and Tweek didn’t think he could go two weeks without seeing Craig, so he would probably catch it regardless.

He slowly climbed out the passenger side door and walked to the front of the car. Craig was sitting on the hood, eating his fries and staring up at the sky. Tweek sat gingerly next to him.

The parking lot was quiet, and the only sound he could hear was the chirping of a few crickets in the grass of the field. He followed Craig’s gaze and looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, and Tweek had to admit, the starry sky took his breath away.

With no clouds, the stars stood out on the inky black sky in varying degrees of brightness. He turned his head slightly to look at Craig, who was gazing in absolute rapture. Tweek let himself lean back on the windshield to take it all in. The entire atmosphere was incredibly calming.

“I like looking at them when I can’t sleep,” Craig said after they had been sitting for a few minutes. Tweek struggled to imagine Craig having trouble sleeping. “They’re even better now that no one is around.”

“Why?” Tweek asked softly, though he didn’t really need clarification. He just wanted Craig to tell him.

“I don’t know…” Craig said absentmindedly. “Maybe…maybe because they’re like a story and art all at the same time?”

“A story?” Tweek asked.

Craig leaned back onto the windshield with Tweek, their shoulders pressed together.

“Yeah. Like the myths.”

Craig didn’t expand voluntarily, so Tweek nudged him with his shoulder.

Craig took the McFlurry out of Tweek’s hand and took a bite.

“Well it’s like, they’re all named after, like, Greek gods and goddesses – did you really eat all the chocolate pieces? – so each cluster of stars is kinda about those myths.”

Tweek took the McFlurry back and pointed to a group of stars right above them.

“Like that one?”

“Yeah, that’s Perseus. He was this hero who killed Medusa.”

“How’d he do that?” Tweek asked, letting his head fall against Craig’s shoulder.

“He used a mirror and cut off her head. Then he saved a beautiful princess, Adromeda.” Craig pointed to another star cluster, close to the first.

“Mmhmm,” Tweek replied, feeling his eyes getting heavy.

“Yeah, she was so beautiful that Poseidon got angry at her parents and tried to kill their whole kingdom, so her parents chained her to a rock as sacrifice, but Perseus saw her and fell in love and so he saved her and then married her.” Tweek could tell Craig was excited by the emotion in his voice. “If you relax your eyes you can actually see them, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Tweek replied, relaxing his eyes.

They returned to silence, Tweek finally letting his lids close completely. The night was cold and the hood of the Pinto was hard, but Tweek hadn’t felt this comfortable in two weeks.

“I bet my parents would chain me to a rock,” he whispered, absentmindedly. With his eyes closed, he could see Mr. Garrison, dressed in a white sheet and holding a trident, standing outside his parents’ coffee shop.

 _“If you don’t sacrifice your son to coronavirus, I will close down your store!”_ dream Garrison yelled, coughing into the hand not holding the trident.

 _“Well son, I’m not sure we have much of a choice,”_ his father shrugged, pulling some shackles out from behind the counter.

“And I would save you,” Craig whispered and kissed the side of Tweek’s head, but Tweek couldn’t tell if it was just part of the dream.

* * *

“Babe.”

Tweek grunted, but kept his eyes closed.

“Honey, we gotta head home,” Craig urged, giving Tweek’s arm a shake.

Tweek cracked his eyes open slightly. The sky was no longer covered in stars but was bright and pink. He opened his eyes more widely. He was still on the hood of Craig’s car, now with Craig’s jacket wrapped around him. He looked to his left and saw Craig wearing nothing on his torso but the t-shirt he had gone to bed in the night before.

“Ar-aren’t you cold?” Tweek asked, his voice breaking with a yawn.

“Nah, I’m good. But come on, my parents will be up soon.”

Craig grabbed the garbage from their midnight snack and walked over to the trash can next to the school’s back entrance.

Tweek looked around, still trying to figure out his surroundings. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have, because for the first time since the quarantine had started, he felt slightly more like himself.

He slid off the hood of the car and stretched. His body was sore and aching, but his mind felt clear and not so loud. Craig had returned from throwing out the garbage and climbed into the driver’s side. Tweek took the cue and climbed into the passenger’s.

Tweek played his favourite music station as they drove home, even singing along at some points. Though Craig never took his eyes off the road, Tweek thought he saw Craig smile a couple times.

When they pulled up to his house, Craig turned to Tweek and put a finger to his lips, indicating that they needed to be quiet so as not to wake his parents. Tweek nodded and the two approached the door as quietly as possible.

Craig unlocked the door and pushed it forward gently, doing his best not to let it squeak. He waved his hand for Tweek to follow. They got into the foyer and Craig gently shut the door behind them. They turned around to head up the stairs, only to come face to face with Thomas, sitting in the front room, a ship in a bottle on the table in front of him.

Thomas stared at Craig and Craig stared back. Tweek could sense Craig holding his breath and felt his own blood pressure rise.

The minute of awkward silence stretched on and Tweek was sure this death was worse than any that the coronavirus would provide.

Finally, Thomas gave a jerk of his head towards the stairs and turned back to his bottle.

“Don’t let your mother see ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know I haven't responded to comments, but please know that I read every one of them and they are getting me through this quarantine ❤️. Thanks to anyone still reading.
> 
> Forgive me for my picture of Kenny. All I had was two days and a box of pencil crayons 😕 I never claimed to be an artist (I'm not even a writer).
> 
> Also are my constellation stories real? Who knows? Joy and I did not pay attention in astronomy 😬
> 
> Love to you all. Stay safe. Remember to smile. :)


	5. Day 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek agrees to make the cupcakes for Nichole's birthday party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back. Good luck to anyone reading this the day it's posted because it's 4 am and I am not in a proof-reading state of mind.
> 
> Seriously, thank you to anyone who is still reading. I don't own these characters or these songs. I don't own anything; I rent. I'm a millennial.

**_Token Black added Tweek Tweak to the group_ **

**_Token Black changed the name of the group to_ Planning Nichole’s Virtual Birthday Party**

**_Token Black added Wendy Testaburger to the group_ **

**_Token Black added Bebe Stevens to the group_ **

**_Token Black added Rebecca Tucker to the group_ **

**_Token Black added Heidi Turner to the group_ **

**Bebe:** heyyy guys!!

**_Token Black added Craig Tucker to the group_ **

**Wendy:** Aww Token! What a great idea! That’s so sweet! Nichole will love that! How can we help?

**_Token Black added Clyde Donovan to the group_ **

**_Token Black added Jimmy Valmer to the group_ **

**_Rebecca Tucker changed Rebecca Tucker’s name to_ Red**

**Clyde:** TFW your gf doesnt respond to your messages but is the first person to talk in the gc 😔

 **Bebe:** ❤️😘😘

 **Token:** @Wendy Testaburger thanks! It was actually Tweek’s! I’m gonna go over how you guys can help in a minute, but before I do is there anyone else I should invite?

 **Heidi:** Hi guys! Thanks for the invite!! 🥳🤗 and maybe Annie?

 **Wendy:** Yeah definitely Annie and Nelly.

**_Token Black added Annie Nelson to the group_ **

**_Token Black added Nelly Wilks to the group_ **

**Clyde:** umm??this feels like??an uneven number of girls to boys??

 **Bebe:** umm??? its a girl’s birthday??

 **Bebe:** you moron??

 **Clyde:** i vote to uninvite bebe from the party

 **Annie:** hey everyone!!

 **Bebe:** boo to you 😤🖕🏻

 **Bebe:** not you annie ❤️ ❤️

 **Annie:** I was gonna say😂

 **Red:** if it’s a boardgame thing shouldn’t you invite nic’s boardgame club?

 **Token:** Yeah, absolutely, who’s that?

 **Red:** 🤷

 **Craig:** then that’s a stupid suggestion

 **Red:** 🖕

 **Jimmy:** i think it’s a great suggestion Red😉

**Red: 🖕 🖕**

**Wendy:** I know she and Tammy play together.

 **Wendy:** And sometimes Stan.

 **Craig:** if stan marsh is coming I am not

 **Clyde:** same ^^ but for bebe

 **Bebe:** blocked

 **Clyde:** 😭

 **Token:** Thank you, I will be accepting no further ultimatums on the guest list for my girlfriend’s birthday.

**_Token Black added Tammy Nelson to the group_ **

**_Token Black added Stan Marsh to the group_ **

**Nelly:** wooah holy notifications batman 😂 hi @Everyone!!

 **Stan:** hi guys

 **Token:** Okay, so is that everyone? @Wendy Testaburger @Heidi Turner @Tweek Tweak?

 **Stan:** ^ nice craig

 **Craig:** 🖕🏻

 **Wendy:** That’s everyone I can think of!

 **Heidi:** ME TOO

 **Heidi:** sorry, me too** 😅

 **Tammy:** hi Token 🙂 what is a virtual bday?

 **Token:** Okay, hi everyone! So as you probably know, Saturday is Nichole’s birthday. I felt really sad that we would all be indoors and couldn’t share the day with her, so Tweek came up with the idea of a makeshift virtual boardgame café!

 **Wendy:** @Tweek Tweak is such a sweetie!

 **Bebe:** Token you are the best boyfriend in the world wtf 😭❤️❤️

 **Clyde:** im literally in this chat

 **Bebe:** blocked

 **Token:** I’m going to get everyone a subscription to this app that allows you to play board games with your friends. I’m also going to order a pizza to everyone’s house when the party starts, so if you have any dietary restrictions, please let me know here, along with your address.

 **Clyde:** you should know my address and dietary restrictions best friend

 **Jimmy:** “extra cheese” is not a dietary restriction

 **Bebe:** ☝🏻

 **Clyde:** 😧😧

**_Clyde Donovan changed Jimmy Valmer’s name to_ rude**

**_Bebe Stevens changed Clyde Donovan’s name to_ blocked**

**Tammy:** wow Token that’s so cool! what games do they have??

 **Token:** Well, I’m not sure yet, maybe you and Stan can look into that and flag any games you think Nichole would like to play. We’ll probably need a few on deck because the party is so large.

 **Wendy:** I love this plan btw 🥳😄

 **Token:** Thanks, it was mostly @Tweek Tweak.

 **Token:** Speaking of which.

 **Token:** Tweek, I was hoping you could make those chocolate and hazelnut cupcakes for the party. I thought maybe you and Craig could leave them on people’s doorsteps before the party, and we could all eat them together when we sing Happy Birthday.

 **Token:** Do you think you could do that?

 **Tweek:** making thee cake is a lot of pressure

 **Stan:** they’re cupcakes? you make cupcakes all the time?? so..

 **Bebe:** @Stan Marsh when was the last time you made cupcakes?? was it during a pandemic?? do you know how much pressure they are?? fuck off

**Craig: 🙂**

**Craig:** hi bebe

 **Bebe: 🙂** hi Craig

 **blocked:** craigory stop trying to steal my gf your gay

 **Bebe:** did someone hear something 🤔

 **Bebe:** the wind??

 **Token:** Tweek, if you don’t think you can make them, I can just order from the store.

 **Tweek:** nno ill do it

 **Token:** You sure?

 **Token:** If you can I will drop the groceries off to you, so you don’t have to go to the store.

 **Tweek:** yeah ill do it.

 **Token:** Awesome! Thanks Tweek! And Craig for driving.

 **Craig:** 👍🏻

 **Heidi:** can I help with anything?

 **Wendy:** ^^

 **Token:** Yeah, can someone try to figure out a way we can all video chat during this? I don’t care if it’s Skype or Zoom or what, but a couple people should probably have a test run first to make sure it works.

 **Red:** I can do that

 **Heidi:** Red, let’s call tonight to test it!

 **Red:** 👍

 **Token:** Okay, and Bebe, do you think you could make a Spotify playlist for us all to listen to during the party? Something fun and nostalgic maybe?

 **Bebe:** 🤩 my time has come 🤩

 **blocked:** um why was i not consulted on a playlist??

 **rude:** because no one wants to listen to B4-4 Get Down on repeat for four hours?

 **blocked:** uh false

* * *

The party started in twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours! Sure, from Stan Marsh’s point of view on Tuesday it hadn’t seemed like a big deal, but that was three days ago, and for some reason in all the scenarios Tweek had run in his head for how these cupcakes could get fucked up, he had never factored in Clyde Donovan.

Clyde had volunteered on Thursday to go and collect the necessary ingredients from the grocery store and deliver them to Craig’s house, in, what appeared to be, an attempt to do his part to help out with the party. Unfortunately, what that meant was a distraught Clyde calling Tweek from the Whole Foods every four minutes to ask what one of the items on the list meant. Tweek had found it increasingly difficult to repeatedly explain the cupcake checklist, and eventually had to pass the task of answering Clyde’s messages off to Craig, who simply cared less about quality than about getting Clyde off the phone.

Because of that, most of the ingredients had been unusable by Tweek’s standards, leading to a small meltdown Thursday night. Craig had tried to convince Tweek to make due with what Clyde had brought, but Tweek insisted this would be the disaster that ruined Nichole’s birthday and caused Token to hate him forever, finally resulting in a resigned Craig driving out to Whole Foods at 8 pm to get the correct ingredients.

Tweek still wasn’t overly satisfied by the quality of the ingredients Craig had procured, but he wasn’t about to complain after Craig had risked his life to go to get groceries right before closing. Plus, he felt he had already lost a whole day of baking because of Clyde’s inability to tell the difference between baking soda and baking powder.

To compensate, Tweek had woken up at about 7 am to start baking. Over the past week, Tweek had been sleeping much better. There hadn’t been any more late-night adventures to McDonald’s and South Park Elementary, but Craig had convinced Tweek to forsake the air mattress for the sake of both their sleep schedules. Every night, Tweek would climb up into Craig’s bed. The latter would wrap his arms around the former and tell him stories of the constellations until Tweek fell asleep. They couldn’t see the night sky from Craig’s bed, only the glow-in-the-dark stickers Craig had stuck to his ceiling when he was 7, but when Tweek closed his eyes, he swore he could see Craig’s words take shape.

He wasn’t sure when Craig fell asleep each night, because he seemed to talk well into Tweek’s own dreams, but each morning when he woke up Craig’s face was buried in his hair, breathing heavily. Most days Tweek would lay as still has possible for as long as possible so as not to wake Craig, but today, he had very gently untangled himself from his fake boyfriend’s grasp and headed downstairs. He knew he would not really be able to relax until these damned cupcakes were baked and iced.

And now it was noon.

The cupcakes had been neither baked nor iced, and he was on his fourth batch of batter. The difficulty of baking in someone else’s house with someone’s else utensils and the wrong ingredients was beginning to rev up his anxiety, and to be perfectly honest, the third batch of batter had only not worked because he had missed a few steps.

_-ruin the birthday. You’re going to ruin the birthday. You’re going to ruin the birthday._

Suddenly his phone buzzed on the counter, making Tweek jump and drop the egg he was holding on the floor.

He cussed, picking up the phone, trying to swipe it open, even though his hands were covered with failed, gooey, cocoa batter, serving only to make a mess on his screen. He eventually settled to use the tip of his nose, the only surface on his body not covered in chocolate, to slide open the lock screen.

It was a message from Bebe to **Planning Nichole’s Virtual Birthday Party**. She had sent a Spotify playlist titled, “Birthday Party – Final Mix” along with several emojis wearing hats and blowing kisses.

Tweek tapped the link with his nose, and suddenly the playlist opened for him to see. He smiled with twinges of nostalgia as he read the songs Bebe had listed out. Each song could have been taken directly from the setlist of one of the DJs who played their preteen dances back in elementary school.

Tweek could remember clearly, laughing while Clyde would dance to “Cotton Eye Joe” and try to force the rest of them to square dance with him. He could remember the girls pulling him onto the floor to act out the dance moves to “Cha Cha Slide” with them. He remembered standing with Craig, back to the wall, shoulders pressed together, every time “Good Riddance” would play.

“I don’t dance,” Craig had once whispered to him apologetically.

Tweek tapped the shuffle button and placed his phone down on the counter. Immediately the opening cords to the Smashmouth cover of “I’m A Believer” blared out of his phone.

> “I thought love was only true in fairy tales,
> 
> Meant for someone else, but not for me.
> 
> Love was out to get me, that’s the way it seems,
> 
> Disappointment haunted all my dreams.”

“Then I saw her face!” Tweek yelled along, unable to contain himself as he creamed butter and sugar together for the fourth time. “Now I’m a believer!”

This batch went much quicker with the help of Aqua, the Black Eyed Peas, and Britney Spears. Tweek couldn’t help but spin and twirl around the kitchen to the music, as he filled up the cupcake liners.

As Tweek slid the tray into the oven, the phone played the electronic opening beat of Depeche Mode’s “I Just Can’t Get Enough”. Tweek closed the oven door, bobbing his head in time with the music.

“Think you made enough batter?”

Tweek spun around to see Craig leaning against the kitchen doorway. He was still in the shirt and sweatpants he slept in, his hair sticking up in weird directions. He was staring at Tweek with a fond, half smile.

Tweek continued to move with the song, walking over towards Craig.

“Well, you know how Clyde likes cupcakes,” Tweek grinned, snapping his chocolatey fingers to keep time.

“Ah yes, and I see it’s also a facial,” Craig said, taking his thumb and running it over the tip of Tweek’s nose, which apparently had picked up some of the batter from his phone screen.

“Come on, I’m listening to the mix Bebe made for the party,” Tweek grinned, reaching for Craig.

Craig held up both his hands and took a step past Tweek, into the kitchen.

“Woah, no. I don’t dance. And especially not with people covered in cake.”

Tweek looked down at his hand and back up, his grin widening.

“What? You afraid?” Tweek walked towards Craig, hands outstretched like the Mummy.

“Of you? No,” Craig laughed, continuing to back away. “Will you stop?!”

“Aw, come on Craig, embrace the mess! Then you can do laundry!”

Tweek dipped his hand in one of the failed batters left on the counter and reached out to smear it across the front of Craig’s shirt. Craig caught Tweek’s hand in his own.

“What are you, eight?” Craig asked, trying to sound serious, but failing to contain his smile.

Tweek repeated with his other hand, but Craig caught that one has well. They stood in the strange tableau for a second, Craig holding both Tweek’s wrists, as Tweek’s hands dripped brown sludge. Suddenly Tweek yanked his arms towards himself and began to move them spastically, in what could, by the most generous estimation, be considered a dance.

“You’re like an angel and you give me your love,” Tweek shrieked, purposely off-key. “And I just can’t seem to get enough of…”

Craig laughed, and let his arms be moved around to the rhythm of the song as it faded out, even allowing his own head to bob with the music.

The song faded and both boys stood, out of breath from laughter, Craig still holding Tweek’s wrists, though considerably more gently.

Suddenly, soft acoustic guitar started to play from the phone, in a jarring juxtaposition to the previous song.

> “What day is it? And in what month?
> 
> This clock never seemed so alive.”

Tweek looked at his phone, still sitting on the counter, and felt a ting of resentment towards it, as if the phone had purposely stopped their fun by choosing Lifehouse’s “You and Me”. He dropped his eyes down, feeling his face getting warmer. How many times had he watched his classmates off dancing with dates to this very song, while he and Craig slunk to the back wall of the gym? How often had he swallowed down the envy that grew in his throat and choked him, seeing their friends pressed against one another, while he stood alone, undesired?

Tweek let his arms go limp, ready for Craig to drop them and back away uncomfortably, but instead he felt a soft tug on his arms. When he looked up, he felt a slightly more firm tug. There could be no mistake that Craig was pulling him forward.

Tweek tried to step closer to Craig, but instead, stumbled, losing his footing. Craig released his wrists, and caught him by the hips, holding him from falling to the ground. Tweek looked up at Craig, who helped steady him back on his feet, but did not take his hands off Tweek’s hips. Tweek’s hands, once released, had found their way to Craig’s shoulders, and had left dark brown smudges from the batter on Craig’s shirt.

Tweek could recognize what was going on as only a spectator could. He knew he should feel lots of things right now. He knew he should be worrying about stains on Craig’s shirt or if his cupcakes were rising or why Craig’s heart was beating so fast. He knew his mind should be racing, but it wasn’t.

His mind was quiet.

“I always liked this song,”’ Craig said quietly. His expression was stoic, but his voice sounded dry and nervous. He leaned his head down, so his forehead was nearly touching Tweek’s.

They didn’t really dance so much as stand – Craig’s hands holding Tweek’s waist, Tweek’s hands resting on Craig’s shoulders, their chests nearly pressed together, while the syrupy music surrounded them.

> “All of the things that I want to say just aren’t coming out right.
> 
> I’m tripping on words; you’ve got my head spinning.
> 
> I don’t know where to go from here.”

_He’s gonna kiss you_ , Tweek thought, and for once he wondered if it might actually be true, as Craig’s eyelids slid closed.

“See, I told you they’re super fucking romantic.”

Tweek and Craig broke apart almost instantaneously, both turning to the door, where Tricia stood, her phone in one hand with an active Facetime call to Karen McCormick.

“Aww, leave them alone. I think it’s sweet,” Karen giggled through the phone.

“Yes, well, you’re not at constant risk of walking in on your brother fucking,” Tricia sighed, grabbing a coke from the fridge.

“You have met my brother, right?” Karen laughed through the phone again.

“Tricia! Get out!” Craig yelled, flipping his sister the bird with a lot more emotion than he usually did.

Tricia walked back out of the room, coke in hand, and shot a middle finger back at her brother in return, with far less emotion behind it.

Tweek fixed his eyes on a spot on the floor and dug his toe into the spot. The song was playing at the same volume, but the room felt considerably noisier.

Craig turned back to look at him, but Tweek opened his mouth before Craig had a chance to let him down easy.

“I have to make the icing still,” Tweek said hurriedly. “So, I’m-nn-gonna do that.”

“Oh…right…” Craig responded, looking slightly rattled himself. “And I gotta…wash this shirt…so…”

“O-okay,” Tweek nodded, turning back to the counter to avoid eye contact with Craig.

Craig hesitated behind him for a while before Tweek heard him leave the room. Once Craig was gone, Tweek put his hands on the counter and let out a breath that he felt like he had been holding for an hour.

> “What day is it? And in what month?
> 
> This clock never seemed so alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! So, I have no idea if those songs would be nostalgic to a 17 year old. Probably not, because I'm 27 in 6 days and they're nostalgic to me, so...
> 
> Correction: I have just been informed that I am not, in fact turning 27, but am turning 26. Guys, I need some sleep 😔
> 
> Stay safe everyone! Love you all ❤️


	6. Day 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Nichole's birthday party, Craig gets some disappointing news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm back. This is a really short chapter, but don't worry 'cause it's also not well written. I promise to gain some talent and write a longer chapter tomorrow. 
> 
> On a more serious note, thank you so much for the feedback thus far - it really means a lot to me. I don't own any of the characters...yet!

Tweek looked at his hand.

He could play a heart.

But if he played a heart then hearts would be broken and he had lots of hearts, including a queen and an ace and once the suit was broken then he could collect every trick. On the other hand, he didn’t have any spades, and all his diamonds were under eight, so he didn’t want to waste them if he didn’t have to-

“Tweek? Hellooo man, are you still there?”

“Don’t rush him,” Token scolded Clyde through the screen.

Craig nudged Tweek with his foot, which was dangling off his bed. Tweek was sitting on the air mattress, using Craig’s laptop, while Craig was using his phone because his father’s old computer had been dubbed too immobile and too much “a piece of shit”, as Craig put it, to operate Steam.

Tweek jolted his head to look up at Craig, who gave him a raised eyebrow.

“You good?” Craig mouthed, tilting his phone camera away from his face so the others wouldn’t see.

Tweek gave a jerky nod and played the ace of hearts.

“Fuuuck my life,” Clyde groaned, throwing his head back.

The party had gone off without a hitch. Nichole had been both surprised and thrilled. The pizzas had all come on schedule, and, with the exception of Nelly and Heidi’s respective internets occasionally freezing, singing happy birthday while eating Tweek’s cupcakes had worked better than expected. The Zoom party had listened to Bebe’s playlist and joked and reminisced for a couple hours, before Token broke out the main attraction.

Five hours and seven board games later, most of the guests had started to filter out. Tammy and Nichole had wanted to start a game of Risk, and Stan had eagerly joined. Jimmy had also asked to play, vowing privately to the boys that he would have a date with Tammy before the game was through. Token, Clyde, Craig, and Tweek had quietly left the party to start their own chat and game of Hearts.

“Do you think she liked it?” Token asked, playing the four of hearts.

“Oh, definitely, man. You made the rest of us look bad with your superior boyfriending. Way to throw off the curve,” Clyde responded, playing the ten of hearts. “Now everyone’s gonna think we’re shitty boyfriends.”

“Craig’s not a shitty boyfriend,” Tweek replied defensively, on reflex. He darted his eyes to the boy sitting on the bed, and thought he saw a hint of a smile tugging at Craig’s mouth. Tweek quickly looked back at his screen and played the seven of hearts.

Craig played the queen of spades and elicited another groan from Clyde. Craig held his middle finger up to the screen.

“Ever considered you _are_ a shitty boyfriend, Clyde?” Craig asked.

“Okay, well, sorry we can’t all move our significant others into our houses pre-pandemic. Not everyone has the undying support of the town rooting for their relationship,” Clyde replied, his eyes scanning his cards for his next play.

“Is _Bebe_ even rooting for your relationship?” Craig asked.

“Don’t listen to him, Clyde,” Tweek interjected. “Craig keeps a framed picture of you two in his closet.”

“Wait…really?” Token asked with a grin. “I wanna see.”

“Awww, Craigory,” Clyde swooned, holding a hand over his heart.

“Know who _is_ a shitty boyfriend? Tweek,” Craig laughed, picking up a pillow and throwing it at Tweek. Tweek giggled, catching the pillow as it hit his face, falling over onto his side.

“Seriously! Where is this picture!” Clyde yelled while the rest of them continued to laugh. An ease filled Tweek as he lay on his side giggling.

“Craig!”

Tweek sat up to look in the direction Laura’s voice had come from.

“What?” Craig yelled back, not bothering to mute his phone, meaning Tweek heard it twice as loud.

“Can you please come down here for a minute?” Laura yelled back.

“One sec,” Craig said to the group chat.

“Don’t run from my love Craig Tucker!” Clyde yelled.

Craig flipped off his phone screen again and threw the phone on the bed, before climbing over Tweek on the air mattress to get to the door.

“Let’s talk about him while he’s gone,” Clyde grinned as soon as Craig had left the room.

“Or we could talk about the party Tweek and I just threw for Nichole,” Token suggested. “Do you think she liked the pizza?”

“Ooh my god, Token. I just played monopoly for like one hundred hours. Please don’t make me relive it all again. I think I have PTSD.”

Tweek tried to tune Clyde and Token out as they squabbled, straining to hear from downstairs. It was very quiet, but he thought he could hear snippets of Craig’s angry voice every few seconds.

“-do you know that?”

“-at can I do-”

“-at’s bullshit-”

“-Fine. Whatever.”

A few seconds later Tweek could hear Craig’s heavy footsteps as he came up the stairs. When Craig came through the doorway, Tweek could tell something was wrong. All the laughter and joy that had been on Craig’s face only minutes earlier was gone, replaced by his usual stoic expression. In contrast, however, Tweek noticed Craig’s hands were curled into fists and shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. Craig avoided eye contact with Tweek, and walked directly to his bed, throwing himself onto it. He picked up his phone and turned it off.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Clyde asked, noticing Craig’s square had gone black. “I was about to win, you pussy!”

“Fuck off, Donovan!” Craig yelled at the laptop in Tweek’s lap.

“Man, Tweek, I am sorry that you have to put up with a menstruating Craig during your quarantine,” Clyde sighed. “Someday I’ll take you away from all this.”

Tweek was barely listening to Token and Clyde, his eyes fixed on Craig, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“I-I’ll talk to you later,” Tweek quickly replied before exiting the chat. He turned to look up at Craig, lying on the bed.

Craig’s left forearm was draped across his eyes, while his right arm lay at his side, his fingers picking at his bedding. Tweek felt his own anxiety rise, seeing the familiar symptoms in his fake boyfriend.

Gingerly, Tweek stood up, slightly wobbly on the air mattress. He walked over to the bed and sat next to Craig. He fought the voices in his head telling him to stop and run away.

_He doesn’t want you here. He wants to be alone. You’ll only make this worse._

Tweek gently covered Craig’s right hand with his own, firmly stopping Craig’s fingers from twitching. Craig hesitated for a minute before lacing his fingers with Tweek’s.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Tweek not sure what to say. Craig didn’t talk about his feelings. Ever. And if Tweek made him, Craig could get mad. But, if Tweek _didn’t_ ask what Craig was thinking, it could seem like he didn’t care. Tweek fought the urge to scream and pull at his hair, instead opting to rub his thumb on the back of Craig’s hand.

“They cancelled _Advanced Space Academy_ ,” Craig finally whispered. “Sent my mom’s money back.”

Tweek didn’t know how to reply. Craig waited all year for space camp, and Tweek knew it was the highlight of his summer. There was nothing Tweek could say that would make this any better. He gently squeezed Craig’s hand. Craig gave Tweek’s hand a tug and Tweek took the hint to lay down next to him.

Tweek lay on his side, facing Craig, who still had his left arm covering his face. Their hands stayed intertwined between them.

The silence resumed and Tweek knew he had to say something this time. He needed to convey that he understood how much this sucked – how unfair it was that something Craig loved was cancelled. How much Tweek hurt knowing that Craig was disappointed.

“What do you need?” Tweek asked softly, moving closer to Craig.

Craig shrugged and sniffed. Tweek wondered if he was crying, but when Craig lowered his arm to the bed, his eyes were dry.

“I’m just so fucking sick of this. I’m sick of being in the house. I’m sick of being in this fucking town. It’s been almost a month! It feels like it’s never gonna end…”

“They’ll find a vaccine.”

“Yeah, but when?! What if it’s not until after we graduate?! What if my parents make me only apply to schools in Colorado?!”

Tweek could hear Craig’s voice beginning to crack. He could recognize Craig was spiraling. It had never happened before, but Tweek figured it probably was the same as whenever he spiraled himself. He searched his memory, trying to think how a Craig would calm a Tweek during a spiral. Tweek gently rubbed the hand not holding Craig’s up and down Craig’s arm.

“I just fucking hate this town,” Craig said with a sigh, his voice already calming. “I fucking hate South Park. It’s so goddamn weird all the time, and I don’t want us to be stuck here all our lives.”

“We won’t be,” Tweek replied, forcing his voice to sound confident. “But I’m sorry we’re stuck here this summer.”

Craig turned to look at Tweek. He didn’t look mad anymore. Just sad.

“I just like to get out of here for a week, ya know?”

“Yeah,” Tweek lied, having never experienced wanderlust himself. “But whatever happens next, at least we’ll be together, right?”

Craig stared at him for another beat, before giving a small grin. He pulled his hand out of Tweek’s and wrapped his arm around Tweek’s shoulders, pulling the blond towards his chest.

“You’re the only good thing about this fucked up town,” Craig sighed, burying his face in Tweek’s hair.

Tweek held his breath, trying to slow his heart, which was pounding in his ears.

They lay in silence as the last pinks of sunset turned to dark purples and blues outside Craig’s window.

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Craig mumbled into Tweek’s hair. Tweek wasn’t sure how much time had passed in the silence as he tried, in vane, to control his racing heart.

“Wha-what?” Tweek asked, pulling himself up from Craig’s chest to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

Craig avoided making eye contact, looking ashamed. “I’m, just, sorry I unloaded on you. All the stuff I’ve been thinking about. It wasn’t cool.”

Tweek stared at Craig for a minute. He brought his hand to Craig’s cheek, turning the boy's face to look at him. Craig stared back up at him, eyes wide.

Tweek let his face crack into a smile.

“Yeah, that was annoying. Get that shit under control.”

Craig laughed, poking Tweek’s side so he’d giggle, and pulling Tweek back under his arm.

“Well, see, I think I caught your anxiety.”

“Oh no, should I get the Buddha Box?”

Craig laughed into Tweek’s hair and Tweek’s heart sped up again.

* * *

When Tweek was sure Craig had fallen asleep, he gently untangled himself from the taller boy’s grip. As quietly as possible, Tweek crept across the room to grab his phone off Craig’s desk. He saw that he had messages asking if Craig was okay. A few private from Token and Clyde, and a constant barrage in the **a great audience** group chat, along with confirmation from Jimmy that he had indeed scored a date while playing board games.

Tweek’s fingers hovered over the phone screen. Texting made him nervous and he never felt like he could properly convey the sentiments he wanted to.

But he knew what he had to do.

* * *

**Tweek Tweak added Token Black to the group**

**Tweek Tweak added Clyde Donovan to the group**

**Clyde:** TWEEK WHERE IS CRAIG HAS HE KILLED YOU

**Tweek Tweak added Jimmy Valmer to the group**

**Clyde:** ARE YOU COMING TO US FROM THE GRAVE WHAT IS HAPPENING

 **Tweek:** guys

 **Tweek:** I nneed your help with something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all! I hope you are all still enjoying this fic. I have my layout for the rest of the chapters, so don't worry. There is an end in sight! Stay safe. We're in this together.


	7. Day 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek plans a day to try and cheer Craig up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! So, as promised, here's another chapter. Is it longer? Yep! Is it better? Enh.
> 
> I don't own these characters, but no one was using them so 🤷🏼

The past week had been hard. Craig had seemed to bounce back, but Tweek could sense his disappointment looming over them. He hoped the plan would work. He _needed_ the plan to work. But usually it would be Craig that Tweek would go to for reassurance before planning anything, and it felt extraordinarily lonely to have to constantly reassure himself.

That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t had help. As soon as Tweek had asked, Token had switched into research mode; Jimmy had written the script; and Clyde had worked overtime to provide a constant source of distraction for Craig, continuously calling or texting with some new “crisis” for Craig to solve.

And finally everything was ready.

Tweek lay next to Craig, watching the sun come up through Craig’s window. Craig was still asleep next to him, snoring softly, his arm thrown over Tweek’s chest. Tweek tried to remain still, worried any nervous twitching may wake Craig from his sleep.

Tweek’s new, healthy sleep routine, which had shaped after their late-night trip to the elementary school, had been sharply interrupted as soon as Craig had received the news about his space camp. Instead of falling asleep next to Craig each night, Tweek lay in bed, formulating his plan and trying to prepare for any missteps.

The planning had given Tweek purpose, though, and he wasn’t filled with the anxious energy that usually accompanied his insomnia. He turned to look at Craig, studying how calm and content his face looked while sleeping. Tweek was sure if everything went according to plan he, too, would be able to sleep serenely tonight.

Parts of Craig’s jet-black hair stuck up in odd directions, and one lock covered his forehead. Tweek fought the urge to brush the hair away from Craig’s eyes. He needed a haircut – they both did.

Tweek’s phone buzzed on the bedside table making him jump as if caught in the act of something he shouldn’t be doing. He quickly grabbed the phone. Lit up on the screen was a message from Tricia with one word.

Ready.

“Craig,” Tweek whispered.

“Mmm,” Craig mumbled back, tightening his grip around Tweek and pulling him closer across the bed. Tweek felt himself leaning into Craig rather than resisting.

_Would it really matter if you stayed in bed a little longer?_

_Yes. It would matter_ , Tweek reminded himself. This was it. This was the day Tweek had been planning for a week. This was the secret he had been forced to keep from Craig. It had to go off perfectly.

“Craig,” Tweek whispered, a little louder, jostling Craig’s shoulder.

“Wha-?” Craig asked sleepily. His eyes opened, slightly, and he rubbed at them with his fist. “You okay? Anxiety attack?”

“No, we just have to go downstairs,” Tweek explained, slipping out from under Craig’s arm.

“Why?” Craig groaned, closing his eyes again. “It’s Saturday. Even God rested on Saturday.”

“Pretty sure that’s Sunday,” Tweek replied, grabbing a shirt and jeans from his suitcase.

“Not if you’re Jewish.”

“Which we’re not.” Tweek threw Craig his sweater. “Get dressed, come on. I’ll meet you down there.”

Tweek dressed in the bathroom, to give Craig privacy. Craig hadn’t asked him to, but Tweek felt it was the proper thing for a fake boyfriend to do so as to carefully preserve the lines that had been drawn between them.

 _Sleeping together in the same bed probably negates the need for this privacy_ , he told himself while he brushed his teeth, but he quickly shook the idea from his mind. Today was about Craig, not about sorting out his own feelings and thoughts.

Once dressed to some degree of decorum, Tweek walked out of the bathroom. Craig was waiting in the hall, leaning against the wall. He smiled when he saw Tweek.

“Did you make pancakes or something? Why are we up so early?”

“Yeah Craig, I made pancakes from your bed. Cool trick, huh?” Tweek grinned back. Craig rolled his eyes but didn’t lose his smile.

He reached out his hand for Tweek and Tweek grabbed it, walking with Craig towards the stairs. Once they got to the top of the stairs Craig stopped in his tracks. His mouth opened in surprise, and his brow furrowed. Tweek looked up at him hopeful, feeling his hand sweat into Craig’s palm.

Hanging over the landing was a large sign Tweek and Tricia had drawn on a Bristol board reading “Tucker Space Academy”.

“What the fuck…?” Craig said quietly, clearly trying to piece together what was going on.

“Welcome, new recruits,” Thomas bellowed, standing at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing a beat-up looking sport coat with one of Craig’s NASA stickers stuck over the lapel. “Please report to the mess hall for breakfast at seven hundred hours.”

“Tweek…what’s…” Craig asked, not taking his eyes off his father.

“Come on,” Tweek urged, giving Craig’s hand a tug. “It’s almost seven hundred hours.”

Craig stumbled after Tweek, still rubbernecking.

Next to the kitchen door was another sign, this one reading “Mess”. Tweek pulled Craig toward the door, but Craig pulled his hand back, spinning Tweek around.

“Tweek, what is this? What’s going on?” Craig asked. He looked confused, like he was wondering if he was still dreaming.

“It’s space camp, you dork!” Tricia yelled from within the kitchen.

Tweek shrugged bashfully, offering a smile. “W-well, I-I mean, kinda…”

“Morning, recruits!” Laura shouted, wearing the apron Tweek had purchased for her, adorned with its own NASA sticker. “This morning’s menu is freeze dried fruits, beef jerky, and Tang. Eat up, you have a big day ahead of you.”

Laura shot Tweek a wink, as she brought the dried food over to the table.

Craig picked up a dried raspberry and inspected it. “Where did you get all this?” he asked in amazement.

“Tweek made it!” Tricia answered before Tweek could. “Isn’t it cool?” She popped a freeze-dried banana into her mouth.

Craig turned his amazed look back to Tweek and Tweek blushed, looking down at his lap.

“Hurry up and eat,” Laura interjected, pointing to the food in front of Craig. “All new recruits are expected at rocket building this morning.”

“Rrokit?!” Craig asked, his mouth full of jerky. He downed his glass of Tang and pushed his chair out from the table, running into the living room.

Tweek quickly followed suit, but Laura caught him before he could reach the door and pulled him in for a hug. She gently kissed him on top of the head.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Tweek had to look down to hide his blush.

He walked out of the kitchen to catch up with Craig, who was already waiting by another Bristol board sign for “Rocket Garage”. Thomas was standing next to the sign with his hands behind his back.

“Hello, recruits. I trust you’re all well fed. I have a very important task for you. Part of your training will require you to practice the engineering of…uh…spaceships. So…here.”

Thomas pulled a box out from behind his back and Craig’s eyes lit up. He took the box for the Big Bertha 1948 model rocket and gazed at it in awe.

“So, uh. Go nuts. I’ll be in the garage when you’re done.”

Tweek watched Craig as his eyes explored the box greedily.

“How did you get this?” he asked breathlessly.

“Oh…ah…amazon,” Tweek offered lamely.

“No,” Craig shook his head. “I mean how did you get them to let you.”

“Wha-What do you mean?” Tweek asked, reaching for his hair. “You’ve built m-models before.”

“Yeah, but none that can fly. My dad says they’re too much like drones.”

“Oh,” Tweek mumbled, suddenly wondering if this wasn’t a great idea, but Craig was already ripping the box open at the table.

“Come on,” Craig urged, pulling another chair close to his and patting it for Tweek to sit in.

Building the model took a few hours, but once Craig had it in the backyard, Tweek wondered if they would even get to the rest of the activities. He worried, especially after Craig’s confession of the model rocket ban, that Laura and Thomas would be upset to see the rocket continue to lift off, but Laura simply watched them from the kitchen fondly.

Tweek wanted to interrupt Craig. He wanted to show him what was next but seeing Craig play with the rocket and explain all the steps of the launch to him, he didn’t have the heart. Luckily, by around two in the afternoon, Tricia came outside to take the burden off Tweek’s hands.

“Paging all space nerds to the garage asap,” she said, barely taking her eyes off her phone, before turning back to go into the house.

“What’s in the garage?” Craig asked excitedly, catching the rocket and turning towards Tweek.

Tweek shrugged playfully. “Gotta go check, I guess.”

Craig grabbed Tweek’s hand and tugged him towards the front of the house. The garage door was open just a crack, and Craig passed the rocket to Tweek before crouching down to lift it.

Inside was another hand-drawn sign, this one reading “G-Force Simulator”. In the middle of the garage, Thomas had set up an old office chair with wheels and attached bungie cords all around it, spidering off in different directions. Around the outside of the garage, Thomas had set up an old conveyer belt, connecting it to a motor, so it would run around the room. Each of the cords from the chair was connected to a different section of the belt.

“It won’t…uh, go fast or nothin’. Not like the real thing,” Thomas said apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.

“This is so cool!” Craig grinned, running over to the chair, and his father smiled. Craig buckled the seatbelt that seemed to have been hot glued to the office chair. Tweek walked over, navigating around the cords, to bring Craig a helmet.

“You gonna ride with me?” Craig asked, eagerly.

“Nn-no. Only one seatbelt,” Tweek replied. His tone was apologetic, but he was secretly grateful to be avoiding spinning around and surely vomiting all over Thomas’ garage.

“I would protect you. You could sit on my lap,” Craig offered.

Thomas cleared his throat loudly. “We ready?” he asked, his eyes darting between Craig and Tweek.

Tweek walked to the other side of the conveyer belt and Craig stuck the helmet over his head, before shooting his father a thumbs up. Thomas flipped a switch and slowly the belt began to move, and the chair along with it.

To Tweek’s surprise, the belt did pick up speed. Thomas was right, it was nowhere near the real thing, but from Tweek’s estimation it looked like the Scrambler ride from the amusement park in Denver. Tweek knew Craig loved that ride, because he often would try to convince Tweek to go on it at least twice whenever they made a trip to the park.

Craig was laughing audibly and when Tweek looked over, he could see Thomas with a glowing smile on his face.

“Asteroid attack!”

A soccer ball and a volleyball soared through the air. The soccer ball missed, but the volleyball hit the spinning blur that was Craig and he let out a yell. Thomas quickly turned off the switch.

“What the fuck, Tricia?!” Craig yelled, as the chair slowly came to a stop.

“What?” Tricia grinned from the doorway. “I’m helping with your space stuff.”

“Patricia,” Thomas said warningly, and Tricia turned to leave, still laughing.

Craig unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. His feet crossed and he looked like he was about to fall over. Tweek got to his side as quickly as possible and grabbed his hand and shoulder to steady him. Craig leaned his weight onto Tweek.

“You..uh, want to go again?” Thomas asked.

“Not unless you want me to projectile vomit all over your garage. But seriously, Dad, that was great. Thank you,” Craig gave his dad a grin, still moving drunkenly.

Thomas gave another smile, then turned to Tweek. “You think you can get him downstairs?”

Tweek nodded and Craig turned to look at him. “What’s downstairs?”

“The finale,” Tweek grinned, wrapping his arm around Craig’s waist.

They left the garage, but only got a few steps before Craig collapsed onto the grass. Tweek tried to stop him, but wasn’t strong enough and fell too.

Craig giggled softly, spreading his body out and closing his eyes.

“I can’t believe you did all this.”

“W-well, it wasn’t all me,” Tweek corrected. “Your parents did a lot, and you haven’t even seen the last bit.”

“I can’t believe you did all this,” Craig repeated, more quietly.

They lay in silence on the damp grass for a couple minutes. Tweek got up on his knees and crawled over to Craig.

“You alive?” he asked, bringing his head to hover over Craig’s.

Craig’s blue eyes opened slowly and stared up at Tweek.

“I think I’m gonna throw up that Tang.”

Tweek laughed and pushed himself off the ground. He offered his hand and Craig took it, allowing Tweek to pull him up. When Craig was halfway up, Tweek started to fall backwards from straining, but Craig tugged his arm, bringing Tweek closer to him as he pulled himself up the rest of the way.

“Alright,” Craig said, not letting go of Tweek’s hand. “Let’s see this finale.”

* * *

Craig and Tweek descended the stairs to the basement, and Tweek watched Craig’s face, hoping for the same expression he had been wearing all day. Craig’s excitement felt like a drug to Tweek. A better high than coffee ever gave.

Sure enough, as soon as they got to the bottom step, Craig stopped cold, looking around.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “How did you…?”

The entire basement had been decorated to look like the inside of a spaceship. Huge collages hung on the walls to look like windows, showing planets and meteors outside. All of the furniture was covered in aluminum foil. At the far end of the basement, Tweek had set up all three computers in a semicircle. A bit behind and to the left, Tweek had set up his keyboard and another chair.

Craig walked over to one of the makeshift “windows” and gently touched the pictures.

“The Asian girls helped,” Tweek offered. “They drew the pictures and left them on the doorstep.”

Craig walked over to the computers, still turning in place to take everything in.

“Sit down,” Tweek offered. “Put on your headset.”

Craig looked at him curiously but picked up his gaming headphones and slipped them on. Tweek stuck his own earbuds into his ears and plugged them into his phone. He quickly sent a private message to Token.

A few seconds later, Token’s voice played in Tweek’s ears, and he could tell from Craig’s expression that he could hear him too.

“Commander Tucker, this is Control Central, do you read me?”

“Token?” Craig asked quietly.

“This is Control Central, Commander Tucker. Handing you over to Mission Specialist Valmer.”

“G-g-good evening, Com-commander Tucker, puh-pl-please dir-”

“What? Token you said I could be the mission specialist,” Clyde interrupted, and Tweek could hear the pout in his voice.

“Suh-suh-suck it Donovan.”

“Guys,” Token pleaded, sounding exasperated.

“Mmay-nn-maybe someone could tell us our mission?” Tweek suggested.

“Right. Please turn on the control system in front of you, Commander Tucker,” Token continued, forging ahead with the script.

Craig turned to look at Tweek and Tweek gave him an encouraging nod. Craig turned on the monitor in front of him. The screen was already in full screen video, sharing from Token’s computer and being controlled remotely.

“Com-co-com-Commander Tucker, yo-you’re mission i-is-”

“To boldly go where no man has gone before!” Clyde yelled.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Token mumbled.

A count down started on the screens, and Tweek watched the light reflect off Craig’s face. He couldn’t help but realize how handsome he looked in that light, and almost missed his cue.

As soon as the count down hit one, Tweek hit some keys on his keyboard. He had set up the instrument with one of its special effects’ disks, and he tried to pick cords that sounded like the rumbling of a rocket launching into space.

The sounds reverberated off the walls, and the screens filled with dust and light as they simulated the take off.

“We have lift off!” Token yelled, as the screens showed Craig and Tweek hurtling into the sky.

“Co-come home suh-suh-safe boys,” Jimmy added.

“Give my best to Willzyx,” Clyde said, before all three boys hung up.

Craig slowly took his headphones off, still watching the screen in rapture. Judging by how dark the screens were, and the number of stars, Tweek figured they were now through the stratosphere. He reminded himself to thank Jimmy again for finding these clips on YouTube.

The screens slowed and they seemed to be drifting through space rather than speeding. Craig continued to watch the computers. Tweek continued to watch Craig.

* * *

They had watched the screens in the makeshift simulator until the video had stopped. Tweek was pretty sure if they had had control of the video, Craig would have put it on repeat for the rest of the night. Fortunately, he seemed to be willing to settle for a supper of ramen with freeze dried chicken.

Tweek and Craig were now sitting on Craig’s bed, eating freeze dried ice cream while Craig took time to admire his new model rocket.

“I still can’t believe you did all that,” Craig said for about the fiftieth time, more to himself than to Tweek.

“Well, it’s not like _real_ space camp,” Tweek mumbled, picking at the bedding they were sitting on.

“It was _better_ ,” Craig grinned. “I didn’t have to hang out with a bunch of kids I didn’t know. It was just you and me.”

“Okay, but it was just stuff from around your house,” Tweek reached for his hair, but Craig caught his hand and looked him in the eye.

“Tweek. I loved it.”

Tweek blushed hard and pulled his hand away, standing up. He walked over to his suitcase and fished around until he found what he was looking for.

“I’m still sorry it was in South Park. I know you want to get out of here so – nnn – here,” Tweek handed Craig a folded-up piece of paper.

Craig looked at the paper and then back up to Tweek’s face. Tweek shook the paper and pushed it closer to Craig.

Craig took the sheet and unfolded it.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I ju-just…if they were already full, I didn’t want you to be-”

“You got me an internship?”

Craig looked up from the paper to Tweek.

Tweek took a breath, trying to read Craig’s expression. He had found that there was an internship at the Goddard Institute for Space Studies for students leaving high school. With a little research, it had been pretty clear Craig would be a good fit, so Tweek had taken the liberty of applying for him. The application had been very early, but due to the current circumstances, the registrar informed Tweek that he was looking at applicants for the summer of 2021, and he thought Craig would be an extremely strong applicant. He had written a formal letter with a soft acceptance for Craig.

“Well, I mean, I just applied, in case you want it, but you don’t have to. I mean I know it’s not Texas, but New York is still pretty far…”

“You’re amazing,” Craig breathed, not taking his eyes off the letter.

Tweek let out a sigh of relief and took another bite of his dry ice cream.

“Wait.” Craig furrowed his brow. “This says it’s for a month.”

Tweek’s stomach twisted, as it had when he had read that fact the first time.

“Yeah, w-well, you said you wanted to get out of South Park, so…”

Craig looked up confused. “But what are you going to do?”

 _“You don’t have to worry about me and my anxiety,”_ Tweek wanted to say. _“Enjoy the break.”_

“Wha-what do you mean?” Tweek asked instead.

“Well, like, what are you going to do in New York for a month. You’ll get tired of sight seeing, dontcha think?”

“I-in…New York?”

Craig mirrored Tweek’s confusion.

“I mean, you’re coming right? If I do this internship, you’re gonna come?”

“Well…I-I...it’s a month, are you s-sure you’d want me-”

“Well, I’m sure I _don’t_ want to do it _without_ you there,” Craig replied, pulling out his phone. “Maybe there’s a theater camp or something near it. I mean, it _is_ New York. Come on, help me look.”

Tweek continued to watch Craig. His apprehension faded. As he maneuvered himself across the bed to sit next to Craig and look at theater programs in New York, it dawned on him that he had been right.

He would have a good sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading. For the record, nothing I said about space camp or a Goddard internship is factual. I did the laziest research to get any of those facts. Sorry for spreading fake news Godie!
> 
> Thank you everyone for continuing to read this story. The positive feedback I have received is honestly unreal. Love to you all. Stay safe!


	8. Day 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Animal Crossing and a Piano Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter. We're in the homestretch now, so bare with me!
> 
> I don't own these characters, Or Heart and Soul, or Billy Joel, or Animal Crossing...if that even needs to be said. Seriously, can you imagine what I could do with that kinda combined wealth?

It had been weeks of hard work, but Stripeland was starting to look good. Tweek had collected all five types of fruits and had a variety of trees all over the island. It had been helpful that Token and Bebe had both started with pears, and Clyde had started with cherries, but Heidi, Jimmy, and Nichole all started out with oranges, like Stripeland, so it had taken many a Nook Miles Ticket to find the remaining fruit.

Tweek’s renovated house not only had four rooms, but an upstairs. He was nearly through paying off his loan and thought he could upgrade again soon. He had filled the cottage with all the furniture he could buy at the store and some he had crafted himself.

Tweek had begun to decorate the island with fountains and benches and the star rating continued to go up.

Craig had a house on Stripeland too, but it had never been renovated and had very little furniture. Tweek felt pangs of guilt whenever his avatar ran past the decrepit looking house, because he knew that the only reason Craig didn’t have more of a stake in the game was because Tweek was always hogging the Switch.

The game calmed him. Chopping wood, collecting fruit, catching bugs and fish – the repetition and predictability soothed Tweek, and he found it addictive to curl up next to Craig while he watched TV and maintain their island.

Still, he felt bad. The Switch belonged to Craig, and Craig had paid for more than half of the game. Craig had told Tweek he heard Animal Crossing was calming people’s anxiety during the pandemic, and, while Tweek was usually quick to dismiss Craig’s attempts to placate his anxiety, he had to admit the game did, in fact, relax him.

Tweek had offered to set up a schedule, to ensure both boys would have equal time to play the game, so both of them could develop the island. Craig had waved him off, saying he was happy to live vicariously through Tweek’s avatar, and there was no need for equal time.

All the same, Tweek tried to leave little gifts for Craig every day, burying money trees outside his house and mailing him furniture. He wasn’t interested in luxuries and riches in the Animal Crossing universe if he couldn’t share them with Craig.

The boys sat on Craig’s bed, under the comforter. It was chilly for the beginning of May, but Thomas had turned the furnace off in April and refused to turn it back on – one of the many reasons Tweek was happy to have moved from his cool mattress on the ground to sharing Craig’s double bed.

It was a Tuesday, but due to their strict diligence, they both had finished most of their assignments early last week, and Tweek, feeling especially benevolent this morning, had suggested they stay in bed all day. It was now 4 pm, and the boys had only gotten up a few times to use the bathroom and get food.

Tweek was running around Stripeland collecting resources, and Craig was watching old reruns of Red Racer, his arm resting on the pillow behind Tweek’s head, running a piece of blond hair through his fingers gently.

Suddenly and simultaneously, Tweek and Craig’s phones vibrated, and Tweek knew it must be a group chat. His phone was across the room on Craig’s desk, but Craig grabbed his phone from the bedside table beside them and held it out so Tweek could read the messages.

**Clyde:** twEEK ****

 **Clyde:** TWEEK ****

 **Clyde:** TWEEEEEEEEKKK ****

 **Clyde:** tweek give me your dodo code

 **Craig:** go away ****

 **Clyde:** craig make tweek give me your dodo code i have to sell these turnips

 **Craig:** wtf is a dodo code

 **Clyde:** where is tweek 😭😭

 **Craig:** he’s sitting next to me and he says to shove your turnips up your ass

 **Craig:** nnoo I ddidnt!!!!

 **Craig:** II didntt say that

 **Clyde:** I know tweek my smol

 **Clyde:** please give me your dodo code

 **Craig:** 8X0H7

**Clyde:**

**Jimmy:** wooooo party at Craig and Tweek’s island!!

**Clyde: 🥳🥳**

**Clyde:** guyssss you know what i was thinking…

 **Jimmy:** very little

**Craig: ☝🏻**

**Clyde:** wow okay fuck you guys

 **Clyde:** guess craig has his phone back 🙄🙄

**Craig: 🖕🏻**

**Clyde:** do you guys remember high school musical???

 **Craig:** nope

 **Jimmy:** remember it? I live for HSM

 **Jimmy:** @Craig Tucker you definitely danced around the cafeteria to the soundtrack my guy

 **Craig:** sounds made up 🤔🤔

 **Clyde:** WE SHOULD DO A HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL TIKTOK

 **Clyde:** thats what ive been thinking

 **Craig:** 100% no

 **Clyde:** ☹️

 **Clyde:** but were all in this together…

 **Jimmy:** 😂😂

 **Clyde:** no come on guys

 **Clyde:** wheres tweek he will agree with me

 **Clyde:** he likes musicals

 **Craig:** he says no

 **Clyde:** 😭😭😭

 **Clyde:** i would be such a good troy bolton tho

 **Clyde:** token could be the black guy

 **Clyde:** @cheater

 **Clyde:** jimmy could be the guy who likes to bake

 **Jimmy:** shouldn’t that be Tweek?

 **cheater:** Guys, I’m on the phone with Nichole and these notifications are really getting out of control.

**_Clyde Donovan changed Clyde Donovan’s name to_ troy bolton**

**_troy bolton changed the name of the group to_ what team…WILDCATS**

**_troy bolton changed cheater’s name to_ troy bolton’s black friend**

**troy bolton’s black friend:** Jesus Christ

**troy bolton: 😘**

**_troy bolton changed Jimmy Valmer’s name to_ baking guy**

**baking guy:** the makings of a great tiktok 👍🏻

 **troy bolton:** and craig can be the gay guy who plays piano!!

 **baking guy:** shouldn’t THAT be Tweek?

 **Craig:** don’t

**troy bolton: 👀**

**_troy bolton changed Craig Tucker’s name to_ gay**

**gay:** i need better friends

 **troy bolton:** and tweek can be gabriella because he is perfect just like her 😍😍

 **gay:** watch it

**_troy bolton changed gay’s name to_ insecure gay**

**_troy bolton changed Tweek Tweak’s name to_ beautiful angel 😇**

**troy bolton:** okay cool

 **troy bolton:** i think we’re good

 **baking guy:** well I for one definitely feel prepared

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** Clyde, I’m not musical at all, but good luck 👍🏾

 **troy bolton:** TFW your friends join a band with stan marsh but dont want to do a band with you 😒

 **baking guy:** high school musical isn’t really a band…

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** I never joined a band with Stan Marsh???

 **troy bolton:** you were in a christian rock band for like multiple albums???

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** That wasn’t with Stan.

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** It was with Butters and Cartman.

 **insecure gay:** much better

 **insecure gay:** sell out

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** How was Peru, Craig?

 **insecure gay:** 🖕🏻

 **baking guy:** shout out to @beautiful angel 😇 who is the only person to have not musically collaborated with Stanley Marsh

 **troy bolton:** ummmm???? hi?????

 **baking guy:** hi 👋🏻

 **insecure gay:** begging us to be in his bullying video with you counts as collaboration dumbass

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** ☝🏾

 **troy bolton:** well stan sang in tweek’s texting song so???

 **baking guy:** true

 **baking guy:** can I get an f in the chat for Tweek’s principles?

Tweek giggled, and Craig turned away from his phone to look at him, his own face splitting into a smile. “What?” he asked, setting his phone down on his chest.

“I’m just remembering you dancing in Stan’s video,” Tweek giggled.

“I don’t dance!” Craig replied, through gritted teeth, maintaining his smile. He dropped his phone beside him on the bed and leaned over to tickle Tweek. Tweek laughed harder. He squirmed and fell back on the bed. Craig positioned himself over Tweek, poking at his sides.

“Stop!” Tweek wheezed through the laughter.

“Admit I don’t dance.”

“And what? That was a weird fever dream we all shared?”

“Would that be the strangest thing to happen in South Park?”

“Aww, don’t be insecure, gay- Craig!” Tweek squealed as Craig went in for another round of tickling.

“Kids!” Laura Tucker yelled from downstairs. “We’re home!”

Tweek managed to roll out from under Craig.

“We should go down and say hi to your parents,” he said, still catching his breath.

Craig looked slightly disappointed but climbed off his bed anyway and followed Tweek down the stairs.

By the time Tweek got to the bottom of the stairs, Thomas was already in front of the television with the news on. Laura hung her coat up in the closet and walked over to the foot of the stairs. She gave Craig a kiss on top of the head and then Tweek. Tweek tried hard not to think about the possibility that Laura was an asymptomatic carrier of the virus and forced a smile.

Laura Tucker looked worn out. Tweek knew it must have taken a toll on her – going out into the pandemic every day, worrying about not two but three kids at home. Tweek worried what the amplified stress and minimal downtime could be doing to her immune system. He reminded himself to make her some tea after supper.

“-protest outside Tweek Bros. Coffee, earlier this morning.”

The news caught Tweek’s attention and his head snapped to the TV. Footage showed his mother and father, along with several other townspeople Tweek recognized, marching in circles outside his parents’ coffeeshop. Everyone was holding big cardboard signs reading things like “REOPEN SOUTH PARK NOW” and “KEEP AMERICA THE HOME OF THE **FREE** ”. Tweek felt a lump of panic forming in his throat as the footage changed to a tiny reporter in a bikini interviewing his father.

“Well, we here at Tweek Bros. believe it is our patriotic duty to continue working, even in the worst of circumstances. You see, coffee is something that people need to rely on to always be there, like the American flag, or God. I personally find a rich cup of freshly brewed coffee is like a whisper from an old friend that everything will be okay, and I don’t think it fair of South Park to deny its citizens that luxury in such a tumultuous time,” Richard said into the microphone, with his typical calm, dreamy voice.

Thomas let out a laugh. “Good for him. You must be proud of your old man, Tweek. Standing up for his rights. Wish I could have been there, I’d have a thing or two to say about these new restrictions…”

“Thomas!” Laura scolded, in a hiss.

Craig wrapped his hand around Tweek’s trembling fingers, but Tweek quickly pulled away.

“I-uh-I need to-nNn-make a call,” Tweek stuttered out, running back up the stairs. He got to Craig’s room and slammed the door closed. He grabbed his phone off the desk and unlocked it with his thumb. He tried to type his mother’s number, but his fingers trembled too much, and he eventually had to give up and look through his contacts.

The phone rang twice before Susan picked up.

“Hello, darling. How are you doing today?” Susan asked, her soft, sweet voice doing nothing to calm Tweek’s tremors.

“Mom! You-gah-you’re on TV!” Tweek practically yelled into the phone.

“Oh, yes, your father is watching it now. Isn’t it wonderful the protest got so much attention?”

Tweek grabbed a chunk of his hair at the base of his neck and pulled hard.

“Wh-why didn’t you tell m-me you were-nnN-?”

“Well, Tweek, dear, you sometimes worry about things like this, and your father and I didn’t want to stress you out,” Susan cut him off.

“You are a bit of a spaz, son,” Tweek could hear Richard call from the background, and he flinched at the word.

“And we didn’t want to put the Tuckers in the position of dealing with one of your…episodes,” Susan finished, her voice softer than before.

Tweek bit his lip, still shaking. He knew how his parents saw him – they had no trouble telling him over and over. But clearly this wasn’t his anxiety. Clearly _they_ were in the wrong this time.

“Mmm-Mom,” Tweek started, taking a deep breath, imagining the air he took in as red and the air he breathed out as blue, just like his therapist told him. “It’s not safe.”

His mother laughed with the same lightness as when he had told her gnomes snuck into his room at night.

_No one is ever going to believe you. Your credibility is shot._

“Sweetheart, we’re fine. I promise. Now I have to go but give our love to the Tuckers.”

Before Tweek could say anymore, the phone clicked off. He looked down at the screen and felt the insides of his eyes prick, but he couldn’t identify if it was due to fear or frustration.

A soft tap came at the door and Tweek turned around in time to see Craig gently pushing the door open.

“You good?” Craig asked, his expression worried.

Tweek nodded, but he felt his trembling lip and wet eyes betray him. Craig reached him in one large step, engulfing him in a hug. Tweek felt safe to let his eyes leak out onto Craig’s t-shirt, hidden from the world.

“Th-they’re gonna get themselves killed,” Tweek mumbled against Craig’s chest. He wanted to scream. He wanted someone to understand. What it felt like to feel terrified of something no one around you seems to care about. What it felt like to have everyone censor information because they don’t want you to have an “episode”. What it felt like to be ashamed that your parents would rather die than stop serving coffee.

Tweek thought he felt Craig’s lips press against the top of his head, and it startled him enough to momentarily stop the stream of tears.

“They probably will be fine,” Craig assured into Tweek’s hair. “My parents go out every day.”

“Your parents aren’t dumbasses,” Tweek laughed mirthlessly.

“I promise you: they really, really are.” Craig pulled back and gave Tweek a small smile. He wiped under Tweek’s eyes with his thumbs. Tweek sniffed back the remainder of his tears.

“They didn’t even tell me,” he mumbled, embarrassment warming his belly and moving up to his cheeks.

“My parents never tell me anything,” Craig shrugged.

“They didn’t tell me because they didn’t want your family to have to deal with me freaking out.”

Tweek looked down at his feet, too ashamed to look up at Craig. Craig was silent for a moment, his hands still on the sides of Tweek’s face, his thumbs on his cheeks.

“Let’s play piano,” Craig finally suggested, tilting Tweek’s head up.

“You don’t play piano,” Tweek sniffed, opting to look to his left at the keyboard, rather than up at Craig.

“Okay you play piano, and I’ll watch,” Craig amended, pulling Tweek over to sit at the desk. Craig turned on the keyboard and gestured to the instrument with a wave of his arm.

Tweek looked at the keyboard and then up at Craig.

“What do I play?” Tweek asked, using the inside cuff of his shirt sleeve to rub the rest of the moisture from his eyes.

“Uh, piano?” Craig suggested, pulling another chair over to sit next to Tweek.

Tweek rolled his eyes. “No, like, what _song_ do I play?”

“Oh, um…” Craig rubbed a hand against his cheek, thinking. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and his afternoon shadow was more pronounced than usual. Tweek stared at his fake boyfriend’s jaw in appreciation and envy. Tweek, himself, couldn’t seem to grow any facial hair, no matter how hard he tried.

“Play Billy Joel,” Craig suggested. “You say he has a song for whatever you’re feeling. Prove it.”

“You hate Billy Joel.”

“I don’t _hate_ Billy Joel, I’m just not a 55-year-old trapped in a teenager’s body, like you. Come on, play Billy Joel’s ‘my parents are protesting the coronavirus pandemic and won’t give me fair warning’ song,” Craig grinned, shoving his shoulder into Tweek’s.

Tweek rolled his eyes again and sighed, but he moved his finger over the keys. They found their way to the cords and notes easily, effortlessly. He had played these songs so many times, it felt as natural to him as breathing.

 _More natural_ , he reminded himself, as he thought of the red and blue air.

The world melted away around him. Tweek was aware, logically, Craig was still beside him, but on a visceral level, it was just him and the keyboard.

“They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known. And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own.

“Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover’s eyes, and I can only stand apart and sympathize. For we are always what our situations hand us – it’s either sadness or euphoria.”

Tweek pulled his hands from they keys as if they had burned him. He looked up at Craig, who was staring at him in open-mouthed amazement. Tweek fiddled with his hands uncomfortably, looking back down at the piano.

“That’s not about your parents,” Craig said softly, reaching up to grab Tweek’s hand as it reached for his hair.

“Nn-..” Tweek bit his lip. “No. It’s about m-me.”

“What song is that?”

“Suh-Summer, Highland Falls.”

Craig stared at him a while longer, holding their hands between them, his mouth still slightly ajar. Suddenly he regained composure and dropped Tweek’s hand, positioning his own over the keys.

“Well, I think you should teach me.”

Tweek finally let a giggle escape. “Teach you piano?”

“Yeah, why is that so funny?” Craig asked, pretending to be hurt.

“Cause you hate music?” Tweek laughed again and squirmed away when Craig poked his side.

“Yo, stop spreading lies about me. I don’t _hate_ music. I was in a band with Stan Marsh. That’s how much I _love_ music.”

“Maybe that’s how much you _love_ Stan Marsh?”

“How dare you,” Craig gasped, reaching both arms around Tweek and tickling him. “What’s the Billy Joel song for when your boyfriend won’t respect your desire to learn piano?”

Tweek laughed harder and started to fall off his chair, but Craig caught him holding him upright.

“Come on, seriously. I’m not completely hopeless. Show me a song.”

“Fiiine,” Tweek grinned, feigning exasperation. “Okay, look, here.”

He grabbed Craig’s right hand and held out his index finger.

“You’re gonna hit F three times and then once more and then E, D, E, F, and then G, okay?”

“Uhh…what?”

Tweek giggled and held Craig’s finger over F5. He pushed the finger down three times and held it on the third. He pulled it up and then pressed it down a fourth time.

“Pfft, piano is easy,” Craig grinned.

Tweek smirked back and then moved Craig’s finger one key to the left and pressed it down. He repeated once more to the left, then three times to the right.

“Okay, got it?” Tweek asked. “Play that back.”

Craig repeated the motions, then turned to Tweek with an excited smile when he finished.

Tweek smiled back.

“Okay, so now you’re gonna hit A three times, pause and then once more.” Tweek pointed to the key to the right of where Craig’s finger was.

“Waaait, why is A after G?” Craig asked, furrowing his brow.

“Because the keys repeat.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how music works.”

“But why?”

Tweek huffed. He pressed middle C and C5.

“Because these are the same note, one is just higher than the other.”

Craig gave him a disapproving look, but placed his finger over the A. He pressed it three times, holding on the third and then pressed it again.

“Okay, good! Now G again, F, G, A, no _A_ Craig, good, and then B flat.” Tweek pointed to the black key. “Good!” Tweek cheered when Craig hit it, and Tweek could see colour creep in around Craig’s ears.

“Okay, so then up two to C, yep, right, ‘maaaad-ly’, right, down to F again, perfect!”

Tweek beamed at Craig and Craig looked back at his fingers. “Okay, lets do it again before I forget.”

Tweek watched as Craig practiced through the first few bars over and over, only reaching over to guide his hands a few times.

“Okay, so the next part-”

“There’s more?!” Craig asked outraged.

“Hey, you wanted to learn a song,” Tweek shrugged. “Look, it’s easy it’s all the same notes. Okay, so D, C, B flat, A, G, and then hold F.”

Craig worked through the notes, his fingers stuttering a few times.

“Alright, last two bars, okay? So you’re going back up: G, A, B flat, C, yep, perfect, B flat again, no, sorry, B flat again, so the black key…right, and then A, and then G…right, good, and then just C and F again. Great!”

“Alright, well, I will be henceforth taking over as the musical one in the relationship,” Craig sighed haughtily, cracking his knuckles. “Enjoy astrophysics, nerd.”

Tweek rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Okay, do you want to play it all together.”

“You know, I think I should probably finish on a high note.” Craig made to get up, but Tweek pulled him back down.

“Come on, here. I’ll nod at you when it’s time to come in, okay? My part just repeats, so if you miss it, it’s okay.”

Tweek moved his fingers over a lower octave and started playing the melody of heart and soul. After a couple bars he nodded at Craig, who clumsily started in on his part.

“Heart and soul,” Tweek sang in measured beats to help Craig keep time. “I fell in love with you. Heart and soul, the way a fool would do: maaad-ly, because you held me tight…and stole…a kiss…at night.”

Craig pulled his finger off the F key and looked to Tweek expectantly. Tweek grabbed his hand and turned it round, so his knuckles were facing the keys. He dragged it across the octave Craig had been playing with a flourish.

“And then you can do that, after you’re done,” Tweek grinned up at Craig.

“I love your singing voice,” Craig said softly, still watching Tweek.

Tweek blushed and looked down at the keyboard. “I was…offkey most of it…so…”

Craig cleared his throat and ran his knuckles along the keys again.

“So, am I as good as Billy Joel?”

“Yep, I think you’ll be selling out Madison Square Garden as soon it opens back up again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it. Special Animal Crossing dedication to LittleCalzone, (no $100 required ;)). Also, it's been years since I played piano, so please forgive all the music theory mistakes I'm sure I made.
> 
> As the end of this story grows nearer and nearer, I find myself being more and more consumed with this story. So Joyni and I made a Creek Spotify playlist (which sounds like a #friendshipgoals bonding moment until you see the kinda conversations we were having at midnight)
> 
>   
>   
> 
> 
> Without her to temper me, there would have been a lot more country and a lot more musicals, so lets have a big round of applause for Joyni. However, without me, she probably would have put a lot more of the emo punk music we listened to when we were 12, so we are equally dissatisfied with the playlist. Please feel free to listen to it while I drag my feet for the last few chapter. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3L0FVgBPvzRdcLOvx3l5DA?si=cXMgBLfWSLGgwD3WMozmGg
> 
> Again, thank you to anyone still reading. Please stay safe. If you ever need to reach out to someone, please feel free to contact me on my tumblr @dc-comic-girl


	9. Day 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While keeping his weekly coffee date, Tweek receives some upsetting Tucker family news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, I usually don't post trigger warnings, but I am going to post two on this chapter. There's a lot of people who have been personally affected both directly and indirectly by the current global pandemic, and this chapter touches on these effects. Personally, I am unable to visit and be with my ill grandmother and aunt, and I find it cathartic to write about, but if you feel that reading about how this illness is impacting people will hurt you personally, I take no offense in you skipping this chapter.
> 
> Similarly, this chapter deals with the repercussions of abusive relationships, because when I air my trauma, I go hard. Without my friends I never could have gotten out of an awful situation, and I owe them a lot (looking at you Joy). I want to dedicate this chapter to those people. Again, if you know this is something you can't handle, please take care of yourself first and foremost. 
> 
> Obligatory disclaimer that I don't own anything. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW TREY AND MATT?!

It started when they were children.

Tweek had been working late at his parents’ coffee shop on a Sunday night. They had both gone home and asked him to close up. Tweek remembered thinking that seemed like a lot of pressure for a ten-year-old, but his parents never really cared how much pressure they were putting on him. They probably assumed he would freak out no matter what.

It had been past closing – way past, but Tweek couldn’t stop checking if he had turned off the espresso machine, so he had been finding it increasingly difficult to finish the other closing tasks. So transfixed had he been with checking that the little red ON light was dark and not dim, he hadn’t even realized there was someone else in the store. Not until he heard soft sniffling coming from a table in the back.

Instantly, Tweek had assumed it was someone there to abduct and kill him. He had panicked, all thoughts of the red light pushed to the back of his mind. He could still remember picking up the broom and holding it out in front of him, planning to use it as some kind of Bo staff, as he approached the table.

There, sitting in the table alone, crying into her hands, had been Heidi Turner.

Tweek hadn’t seen much of Heidi since they had ventured into the woods in an attempt to find Garrison. Sure, he had seen her in class and outside at recess, and sometimes walking home through the playground, but she had been reserved. Quiet. They had never really run in the same social circle before and Tweek was never very good at making new friends, so it had never occurred to him to reach out to check on her after their excursion.

Looking at her in that moment, though, Tweek could see a change. She had lost weight since their plan to battle evil in the forest. At the time, she was still nowhere near the petite girl she had been most of Tweek’s childhood, but a change from just a month earlier had been noticeable. Still, her physical appearance wasn’t what Tweek most noticed.

Heidi looked unhappy. Not just because of the tears that had been streaming down her face at the time, but something much deeper. Tweek had tried to think of the last time he had seen Heidi with any of her friends, but he had drawn a blank. Even from his peripheral vantage point over the last year, Tweek had seen Heidi run the gamut. She had gone from sweet and perky to withdrawn and shy to vulgar and mean, and now, there she was, looking utterly and completely broken.

“Heidi?” Tweek had asked softly, leaning his broom against another table.

“Oh! Tweek!” Heidi had quickly wiped at her face with the back of her sleeve, but it had done nothing to help the raw looking red around her eyes and nose. “S-sorry I didn’t-…did you want me to go?” Heidi had fumbled for her purse beside her, but Tweek placed his hand on it. He could remember her hand trembling under his.

“Wha-what’s wrong?” Tweek had asked, debating sitting in the chair across from Heidi, but bracing himself in case she started yelling. “Was the coffee bad?”

Heidi had let out a humourless laugh. “No. I mean…I don’t know. I don’t drink coffee.”

“O-oh…” Tweek had replied, fidgeting uncomfortably. “You…you know this is a coffee house, r-right?”

She had laughed again. “Yeah, Tweek. I know. I just…”

Fresh tears started to well up in Heidi’s eyes and Tweek had fought the urge to give her a hug.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go…” she had whispered, wiping again at her eyes.

Tweek hadn’t known what to say, standing awkwardly over her, while Heidi traced the wood of the table with the tip of her index finger.

“Wuh-well…I mean, we have hot chocolate too-”

“My parents keep telling me to go out with friends. ‘You never go out anymore, Heidi. Why are you just sitting in your room, Heidi? You’d feel better if you went out to play, Heidi.’ How am I supposed to tell them that I don’t have friends anymore?” Once the tears had started again, they began to fall more and more rapidly, and Tweek’s discomfort grew.

“You have…friends…” Tweek had tried, wondering if he should pat her on the back.

Heidi had snorted out another laugh.

“Yeah? Like who? The girls who called me fat? The girls I was mean to for months? Or the girls who made fun of me for my first ever boyfriend?”

Heidi had lowered her face into her arms, folded on the table.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” Tweek had heard, muffled by the table.

In the end, Tweek’s discomfort from looming over Heidi had won out, and he sat down across the table.

“Wha-what do you mean?” he asked, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “You’re Heidi.”

She had pulled her head up from her arms to look up at him.

“Heidi – Eric’s girlfriend, you mean?”

“No.” Tweek could vaguely recall a feeling of pity in his stomach, though at the time he couldn’t understand why. “Heidi, like…the girl who is good at math and science and doesn’t eat meat…”

Looking back at it now, Tweek felt he had probably sounded exceptionally lame, but he had succeeded in luring Heidi out of her crossed arms.

“I’ve cha-changed a lot.”

“So, change again.”

Tweek remembered seeing Heidi smile briefly, before more tears spilled down her cheeks.

“I just…I don’t like myself anymore. I hate myself, I think,” she had whispered, making Tweek strain to hear her.

“Yeah,” Tweek had said, parroting his therapist. “But that doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

Tweek and Heidi had sat in silence a little while longer. Tweek hadn’t been sure if Heidi was waiting for him to say something else, and so, was certain he had let her down when she stood up.

“I should go. I know it’s past closing. I’m sorry I kept you. Sorry for…just…sorry.”

Tweek had stood up so quickly, his chair had nearly fallen over.

“You can come back,” he had offered. “I mean, if you need somewhere to go because of your parents. We don’t have to talk or anything, just…you can come back.”

Heidi had smiled and left Tweek to finish closing up. When she didn’t speak to him in class Monday, he figured that was the end of it, but it wasn’t.

She _had_ come back.

Heidi came back every Sunday.

She would come in at noon and stay until closing. Tweek would make her vegan muffins and donuts and she would eat them politely, even when Tweek knew they tasted bad. They would sit in a table if the store was empty, or in the back room if either of them found the crowd too overwhelming. At first Heidi would talk about only Cartman, for hours at a time – how he treated her, the things he said to her, how she felt no one else would ever want her. Long after she looked like her old self again, Tweek could see she wasn’t.

Eventually, Heidi had reconnected with the other girls. It had been slow and arduous, and more than once Heidi told Tweek she felt it to be hopeless, but eventually everyone moved on. Well, except Heidi. Tweek sometimes wondered if she would ever be able to move on.

Once Wendy and Bebe and Nichole had begun to include Heidi again, Tweek assumed their Sunday afternoon ritual would end, but it hadn’t. Heidi continued to visit the Tweek Bros. every week. Their conversations evolved from Tweek playing psychologist while listening to rants about Eric Cartman to something resembling a friendship. Their rendezvous extended outside the coffee shop to lunches, bike rides, and study groups. Heidi wasn’t comfortable in large crowds, a sentiment Tweek could relate to, and many a party, the two found themselves clinging to each other in a more secluded room (especially if Craig went off with Token and Clyde to smoke a joint). But through the years, their standing Sunday coffee shop date stood.

Tweek trusted Heidi, and if he was being honest with himself, as much as he enjoyed his and Craig’s friends, it was sometimes nice to have someone who he didn’t have to worry about splitting loyalty.

Since the quarantine had started, their coffee shop dates had been harder to navigate. At first, Heidi suggested they just go to his parents’ shop, since no one else would be there, but Tweek had been too concerned about bringing the virus back into the Tucker household, so they had had to settle on Skype. Tweek wasn’t thrilled with this solution, as he was fairly confident all Skype calls were recorded and saved somewhere in the ethernet. He felt himself being far less candid than he usually would be. Heidi, thankfully, had seemed to pick up on this, and had yet to reveal anything too damning about either one of them, very clearly censoring herself.

“So, I don’t know. I mean, I’m really disappointed the spring dance isn’t going to happen, but at least we won’t have to take that Spanish exam.”

It had been announced on Friday that the school year would officially be closing out at home and that the students of Park County High would not be returning until September at the earliest. The announcement didn’t really come as a shock to Tweek, but it had been the main point of conversation for the last hour, while Tweek sat cross legged on Craig’s bed, Craig’s laptop balanced across his knees.

“We’ll probably have to take-nnn-a take home one or something,” Tweek countered, taking a sip of his tea and replacing the mug on Craig’s bedside table.

“Yeah…” Heidi sighed. Even though it was off camera, Tweek could tell she was pulling at her top self consciously. “Well, hey, at least I won’t have to buy a dress for the dance!”

Heidi had never seemed to regain any confidence in her appearance Post Cartman (or PC as Craig had called it once). Tweek couldn’t really understand it, but he could still see it there, whenever Heidi looked in a mirror. He knew that the Skype coffee dates were hard for this. He would regularly catch her watching the tiny video of herself in the corner and losing track of the conversation.

“Well, at least it’s not prom cancelled,” Tweek offered.

“Yeah…” Heidi let her voice trail off. “So, how’s Craig handling everything? Is he okay?”

Tweek shrugged, reaching for his tea again. “I-I think so. He doesn’t talk about it a lot.”

“What?! Craig? Laconic? No way!” Heidi laughed.

Tweek smiled, taking a sip.

“So…” Heidi pulled at her shirt again. “Eric messaged me.”

Tweek choked on the tea in his mouth and Heidi looked up startled. Her expression changed to one of guilt.

“Wha-what did he want?” Tweek asked, still spluttering.

Heidi bit her lip, avoiding looking at the camera. “Just…just to talk, I guess…”

Tweek wanted to say something but bit his tongue. Heidi and he had had many a conversation about how isolated she felt by her friends’ judgement when she dated Cartman in the past. He didn’t want to come across as sanctimonious and lead her to crying alone in someone else’s coffee shop.

“Do you…want…t-to…talk to him,” Tweek finally asked, trying to will Heidi into coming to the conclusion that this was a terrible idea.

“I’m just…it’s lonely. I mean, everyone has…someone,” Heidi replied, touching her hair self-consciously.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“Well…I mean…Bebe has Clyde, and Nichole has Token, and Wendy has Stan, and you have Craig-”

“Well that doesn’t really count,” Tweek said, cutting her off. Heidi rolled her eyes but said nothing. When they had been fourteen Tweek had confided in Heidi that the relationship between him and Craig was just for show, for the town’s benefit. She had not believed him then and continued to voice her disbelief whenever Tweek brought it up. He was grateful, however, that she did not push the topic now, while being recorded.

“I just mean…maybe he’s changed. Eric, I mean. Is it so wrong to want to be with someone that I have history with? The devil you know, right?”

Tweek didn’t say anything, opting instead to stare into his mug.

“Right?” Heidi finally prodded, a little more forcefully.

Tweek mulled over his words very carefully.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be here.”

There was a knock at the door and Tweek looked up. Craig poked his head in.

“Tweek?” he asked softly. Tweek calling Heidi on Sundays had been the routine since the pandemic began, and Craig knew that. Tweek’s hands began to sweat, realizing that the reason for interruption must be important.

Craig walked over and leaned into frame.

“Oh, uh…hi, Heidi,” Craig mumbled, awkwardly. Tweek thought Craig never seemed entirely comfortable around Heidi. Then again, Craig never seemed entirely comfortable around anyone he couldn’t tell to fuck off at any given moment.

“Hi Craig! How are things?” Heidi asked, her voice significantly more bubbly than it had been just moments before.

“Oh…you know…lockdown sucks,” Craig replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about your Space Academy.”

“Ah, it’s okay. Steerin’ clear of Cartman?” Craig asked, and Tweek wondered if he had heard any of their conversation.

“So far so good,” Heidi laughed, but Tweek could tell she was thinking the same thing.

“Atta girl,” Craig said, before turning to Tweek. “Sorry, but my mom wants to talk to us downstairs.” He turned back to Heidi and gave an apologetic look to the camera. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Heidi reassured. “I’ll talk to you later, Tweek. Bye, Craig!”

Tweek waved at the computer, before shutting the laptop closed. He gave Craig a questioning look but received only a shrug in response.

“She just said to get you for a family meeting. Come on,” Craig held out his hand and Tweek took it, setting the laptop down on the bed.

By the time they got to the living room, Tricia was already sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on her phone. Laura and Thomas were standing in front of the television, facing the couch. Instant panic filled Tweek’s chest. Whatever was about to happen was very, very bad.

“Hi boys,” Laura said. Her voice was soft and gentle, in complete juxtaposition to her husband’s arm-crossed stance and stony expression beside her. “Sit down for a minute.”

Tweek suddenly remembered the hot, sweaty feeling of being called into the principal’s office when he was a child – knowing his parents would be called to tell them he had been in a fight, or worse…was gay.

They sat down on the couch next to Tricia, Craig still holding tight onto Tweek’s hand. Tweek suddenly found himself self-conscious about the amount he was sweating onto Craig’s palm.

Thomas continued to stare straight ahead, his arms crossed against his chest so firmly, Tweek could see his skin turning white where his fingers dug into his forearm. He followed Thomas’ line of vision, and it looked as if he was staring at a spot about a foot above their heads. Laura was ringing her hands together in a manner that reminded Tweek of whenever he was about to confess to something.

“Kids…” Laura began, taking a deep breath. “Your father and I…we…just received a call from Shady Acres.”

Suddenly Craig’s hand tightened around Tweek’s and Tricia look up from her cell phone, alert. The air on the couch seemed to get much heavier, as Tweek sensed the Tucker children on either side of him holding their respective breaths.

“It seems Grandma Ruby was having some trouble breathing a couple days ago,” Laura trudged on.

“A couple days ago?” Craig asked, outraged. “Wait, you found out she was having trouble breathing a couple days ago?!”

“We didn’t want to worry you, but they ran some tests. And…”

“And what?” Craig asked, his grip on Tweek’s hand getting tighter and tighter.

“And she tested positive for COVID-19,” Laura finished quietly, dropping her gaze to the floor. “And it seems to have gotten worse, because the doctors are thinking of putting her into a coma.”

“Wait, why the fuck wouldn’t you tell us?!” Craig yelled, causing his mother to flinch.

“I want to go see her,” Tricia interjected, her voice near hysterics. “Mom, let’s go. I want to go see her.”

“Sweetheart, we can’t,” Laura said softly, her own voice cracking with tears. “The home is locked down and no one can-”

“Daddy!” Tricia yelled, tears now running down her cheeks. “I want to go see her!”

Thomas didn’t respond, still staring straight ahead, his face expressionless.

“So, what?! It’s too late now?!” Tricia jumped up from the couch. “You didn’t tell anyone and now it’s too late! What happened to ‘coronavirus isn’t a big deal’, Dad?”

She let out a frustrated scream and stomped up the stairs, flipping both her parents off.

Tweek tried to give Craig’s hand a reassuring squeeze, but Craig pulled it away, standing up and stalking towards the stairs after his sister, without saying another word to his parents.

Tweek sat on the couch, his head pivoting between the stairs Craig had just gone up and Craig’s parents – Laura silently crying, Thomas emotionless. He stood up, but Laura held out a hand.

“Tweek, wait, no…just…give him a minute,” Laura said, her voice pleading. Tweek hesitated but sat back down. Thomas turned and stormed towards the front door.

“Where are you going, Tom?” Laura asked, her voice nearly as hysterical as Tricia’s.

“Out,” he replied before slamming the door behind him.

Laura collapsed into a chair across from Tweek, and Tweek reached up to grab a chunk of his hair.

* * *

Once Tweek had made (a still crying) Laura a cup of tea, he decided it was probably safe to go up and check on Craig. Laura seemed more sedated, as she drank from her mug, and didn’t try to stop him this time. As Tweek walked up the stairs, he could hear Tricia still crying in her room. His heart ached. It felt that all the fears that Tweek tried to quell about his own life seemed to come to fruition in Craig’s. He wished that he could do something to help the situation, but this was not space camp. There was no fix to this.

“Yeah, I fucking know that Red.”

Tweek could hear Craig’s voice through the door and could nearly picture the scowl that probably accompanied those words.

“Well then why aren’t you fucking doing anything?!” Tweek heard a girl’s voice yell back, with the slight electronic muffling that accompanied video chat.

“What exactly do you expect me to do about this? Cure COVID?”

“No, I just expected you’d want to see her. You and your dumbass friends are always doing stupid shit, so I really didn’t think a ‘No Trespassing’ sign was what was going to stop you, but whatever.”

“Climbing on the roof of the school and breaking into a nursing home where there are people dying are two different things!” Craig yelled.

Guilt settled in Tweek’s stomach, as he listened to Craig’s private conversation. He gently pushed the door open, sticking his head in. Craig was pacing around his room, holding out his phone in front of him. His eyes met Tweek’s, but he didn’t turn his attention away from the phone.

“You’re right, Grandma _dying_ is a little more important than you needing a place to get stoned with your friends!”

“You know what?” Craig yelled, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck you! You don’t really have the right to be saying anything to me, because if _I_ had known she was sick, I would have **fucking told you**!”

Before Red could respond, Craig whipped his phone across the room. Tweek braced himself for the smash, but the phone landed in Craig’s hamper and fell on a pile of dirty clothes.

Craig spun on Tweek. His eyes were wild and filled with emotion.

“A week!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “They knew for a _fucking_ week! Skeeter told Red last Saturday!”

Craig fell back on his bed, his hands covering his face. Tweek waited to see if he was going to yell again before walking over to the bed. He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, next to Craig’s trembling body.

“Everyone knew except me, I didn’t even get to call her,” Craig said. He wasn’t yelling anymore, but Tweek realized, with even more alarm, Craig was crying.

Tweek gently stroked Craig’s hair away from his face, not knowing what to say.

“She wants me to break into Shady Acres. She actually asked me to go pick her up so we can break in.”

“You can’t do that,” Tweek whispered.

“Yeah, no shit I can’t!” Craig yelled, pulling his hands away from his face. Tweek flinched, worried he had said the wrong thing, but Craig grabbed for his hand. He pulled Tweek down onto the bed, so they were face to face, their noses nearly touching.

Tweek had never seen Craig cry. His cool blue eyes looked much brighter when set against red. Tweek found the new emotional vulnerability jarring but reaching out to comfort Craig came naturally. It felt like playing a song on the piano that he had practiced over and over again.

On a visceral level, it was just him and his fake boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” Tweek whispered, running his index knuckle under Craig’s eye and catching a few tears.

“I hate them,” Craig said, his lip trembling, slightly.

“I’m sorry.”

Craig hugged Tweek to his chest, and Tweek hugged him back. They lay in the bed, intertwined and silent. Craig was still crying, but not making a sound. Tweek could only tell because tear drops continually hit his head. Tweek rubbed up and down Craig’s back in long strides, sometimes with a flat palm, sometimes with the tips of his fingers. Craig would occasionally clutch Tweek’s shirt in his fist and pull him even closer.

Eventually Craig’s breathing evened out, and the tears stopped falling onto Tweek’s hair, but Tweek didn’t stop rubbing Craig’s back.

“I just don’t want her to die,” Craig whispered into the silence. “Not all alone.”

* * *

It hadn’t been very late at all when Craig finally cried himself to sleep. Tweek had been too afraid to check his phone and wake Craig, but the sun had still been in the sky, albeit low, so Tweek had guessed it to be around 7 o’clock.

Tweek hadn’t moved, even after Craig had started to snore. He lay in the increasingly dark room, held tightly against the taller boy’s chest. He had decided, when the snoring began, that he would stay still all night if he needed to. He wouldn’t move once, as long as Craig had a good sleep.

But it had been hours now, and the dryness in his throat was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. His willpower driving him to be a good fake boyfriend was losing to his need to get a glass of water.

As slowly and smoothly as Tweek could manage, he slid Craig’s arm off of him, rolling away from the sleeping boy. Without making a sound, he opened Craig’s door and ventured into the dark house.

With all the stealth of a cat-burglar, Tweek crept down the stairs and towards the kitchen, pausing only when he realized the kitchen light was already on.

Tweek wondered, absently, if Laura had accidentally left the light on when coming upstairs, but as soon as he reached the doorway, it became clear that was not the case.

There, sitting at the kitchen table, was Thomas and a ship in a bottle.

Tweek’s body froze, as his fight or flight urges struggled inside him for control of his body. Before he could get his body to run, however, Thomas spoke.

“Tweek,” he acknowledged, flatly, barely looking up from his model.

Tweek still couldn’t move, caught in a paralysis of fear and discomfort.

“Sit’own,” Thomas gestured to the chair across from him, still not making eye contact with the boy. When Tweek still didn’t move, Thomas looked up with a raised eyebrow, which jolted Tweek into motion.

Tweek sat at the table, his body vibrating.

_He hates you he hates you he hates you he hates you he hates you-_

The two sat in uneasy silence and Tweek wondered if anyone had ever not talked for this long. He wanted to speak to Thomas. Wanted to express his sympathy, as he could so easily with Laura or Craig or even Tricia, but he couldn’t.

_How do you say sorry your mother is being put in a coma?_

“Craig okay?” Thomas asked, after many torturous minutes.

Tweek started to nod but caught himself in the lie.

“H-he’s sad,” Tweek stuttered out. “Scared.”

Thomas nodded, still not looking up, though Tweek couldn’t really tell what progress he was making on the ship.

“Probably mad at me, huh?”

Tweek didn’t answer.

“Do you think we did the wrong thing?” Thomas asked, finally looking up from his ship. “Not tellin’ them?”

Tweek looked down at his hands. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t very well tell Thomas what he thought of his recent parenting exploits.

“My parents don’t ever tell me stuff,” Tweek finally replied. It wasn’t really an answer, at least not a yes or no one like the question called for, but Tweek hoped it was enough that he wouldn’t ask again.

Thomas looked back at his project, and silence briefly resumed.

“You know, Tweek, I’ve known your parents a long time,” Thomas said, and Tweek decided he would rather die of thirst than have to endure any more of this conversation. “I’ve known you most of your life.”

Tweek nodded.

“You always were this…excitable kid, but we, Laura an’ me, we’re real impressed with how you’ve handled everything. You’ve been real good for Craig.”

Tweek felt colour creep into his cheeks, and he looked down at his lap.

“I guess…I don’ know how you do it…make yourself calm when everything’s fallin’ apart.” Thomas continued. His voice cracked on the last word, but he covered it smoothly by clearing his throat.

Waves of sympathy crashed over Tweek as he looked at the man in front of him. Tweek may not have liked how he hurt Craig tonight, but Thomas was just trying his best to hold everything together.

“Ah well,” Thomas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and Tweek was struck by his resemblance to his son. “I never was too good at all those feelings and shit.”

“Sometimes,” Tweek said, before he could stop himself, “it helps to…do something to take your mind off it…like bake…or put a boat in a bottle…or…something…”

Thomas looked down at the model in his hands and then back up at the teenager in front of him. He gave Tweek a small smile.

“You should head up to bed,” Thomas nodded towards the kitchen door. “It’s late.”

Tweek hurriedly stood and grabbed a glass of water from the tap before turning for the door. He had almost made it out of the kitchen when he heard Thomas clear his throat again. Tweek half turned in the doorway. There was a blush creeping on Thomas’ cheeks now, his concentration once again fixed on the bottle, and his brow furrowed.

“Uh…Tweek,” Thomas said, and then seemed to search for his next words.

“Just…I…I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad he picked you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have received several kind, disappointed comments lamenting the approaching end of this story, and more than one angry, disappointed comment from Joyni telling me to keep writing (she is the Annie Wilkes to my Paul Sheldon <3). I want to assure anyone who is interested, just because this story may be ending soon, doesn't mean there aren't more Creek stories to tell in this series. World building has been way too fun, and I have more than enough ideas to fill a sequel or two if people are interested.
> 
> Love to you all, stay safe.


	10. Day 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek tries to explain his love of Billy Joel, but then, words never were his strong suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Two more chapters (after this one) - then I can finally work on the sequel.
> 
> No beta for this chapter; we die like men. (Hope they're in character).
> 
> I don't own South Park or Billy Joel's discography, but they jointly own me.

**Eric:** tweek

 **Eric:** what the actual fuck is going on with heidi

 **Eric:** shes not showing up on any social media and shes not answering my texts

 **Eric:** wtf is going on

 **Eric:** ANSWER ME

 **Eric:** TWEEK ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN PHONE YOU FUCKER

 **Tweek:** I donnt know what you’re talkingg about

 **Eric:** BULLSHIT YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT

 **Eric:** I FUCKING KNOW YOU TALK EVERY WEEK

 **Eric:** I KNOW ABOUT YOUR GAY LITTLE COFFEE DATES

**_Missed call from Eric Cartman_ **

**_Missed call from Eric Cartman_ **

**Eric:** TWEEK ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE!!!!!!!

 **Tweek:** Cartman you broke upp with her

 **Tweek:** like years ago

 **Tweek:** wwhy do you care where shen is

 **Eric:** Tweek if you don’t tell me where she is im going to burn your fucking house down

 **Eric:** TWEEK!!!!!

 **Tweek:** leave her alone

 **Tweek:** if she blocked you on facebook I can’t do anythhing about that

 **Eric:** YOU COULD TELL ME WHERE SHE FUCKING IS

**_Missed call from Eric Cartman_ **

**Tweek:** aall you do it make each other miserable

 **Eric:** how the fuck is our relationship any of your business????

 **Tweek:** you’re texting mee!

 **Eric:** yeah cause I know you know where she is you fucking fag

 **Eric:** not cause I give a shit what you think about our relationship

 **Tweek:** you don’t have a relationship!!

 **Tweek:** she broke up with you because you mmake her feel bad about herself

 **Eric:** fuck you I don’t make her feel bad about herself

 **Eric:** I love her

 **Eric:** JESUS CHRIST FUCKING ANSWER YOUR PHONE

 **Tweek:** if you loved her you’dd wnat her to be happy

 **Eric:** what are you the fucking relationship expert????

 **Eric:** you think cause youve been gay with craig since you were ten youre qualified to give advice??

 **Eric:** heres a clue for you

 **Eric:** normal relationships dont usually result in someone putting their head in a fucking box to get away from the other person

**_Missed call from Eric Cartman_ **

**Eric:** TWEEK ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE YOU FREAK

 **Tweek:** Caartman you made him get that box

 **Tweek:** you made everyone get that box

 **Eric:** I didnt MAKE anyone do anything

 **Eric:** your fucking boyfriend came to ME and told ME you were driving him fucking crazy

 **Eric:** he was the one tired of looking at your stupid fucking face and listening to your annoying fucking screaming

 **Eric:** so dont blame ME because no one fucking wants to be around you

 **Tweek:** Cartmann leave mee alone

 **Eric:** you really think craig could fucking love you???

 **Eric:** first of all craig doesnt love anything

 **Eric:** and even if he could why would he choose a spaz like you???

 **Eric:** trust me hes waiting for someone better to come along

**_Missed call from Eric Cartman_ **

**Eric:** no wonder you dont know what real love looks like

 **Eric:** no one has ever fucking loved you

**_Missed call from Eric Cartman_ **

* * *

Tweek stared at his perpetually vibrating phone sitting on the table in front of him. He pulled at chunks of his hair on either side of his head, forcing himself to shut out the noise, but the voice in his head, which sounded upsettingly similar to Cartman’s, screamed back at him.

_He’s right, you know, no one could ever love you. Not Craig. Not your parents. You’re too much of a freak. Too much of a spaz._

_Craig cares about me_ , he reminded himself. _He wouldn’t have brought me here if he didn’t-_

_Craig will always take the path of least resistance. He doesn’t like when things get complicated. He’s only with you so the town won’t freak out. As soon as you get more complicated than South Park he’ll leave you._

_Craig cares about me. He cares about me. He cares about me._

_No. He doesn’t. He never did._

“Tweek?”

“GAH!” Tweek screamed, looking up. Tricia was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Her eyes were rimmed red, and Tweek could tell she had been crying.

“Are you…okay?” Tricia asked. Her voice was thick and Tweek fought the urge to reach out to her.

“Me?” Tweek asked in a squeak. “I-I’m fine. I was making dinner and…” He stood shakily and reached out a hand for Tricia’s arm. “A-are you?”

Tricia nodded, but her lip quivered. “I was just talking to Red, and…”

Tricia didn’t finish her thought, instead collapsing into Tweek, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his chest. Tweek felt her tears seep through his t-shirt onto his skin. He wrapped his own arms around the girl, not sure exactly how to respond.

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Tricia hiccupped against Tweek.

Tweek gently ran his hand down Tricia’s hair, trying to sooth her. “Well, uh, your mom said the doctors were optimistic yesterday,” Tweek replied, lamely.

“Yeah, but what if they’re just telling us that?” Tricia asked. “Red said four more people from Shady Acres died yesterday.”

Tweek didn’t reply. He just continued to stand awkwardly in the kitchen, stroking Tricia’s hair while she cried. After a few minutes, he pushed back, holding Tricia by the arms.

“What if we made her something? For when she wakes up.”

Tricia rubbed at her eyes and sniffed. “Like what?”

“Like…like a picture!” Tweek suggested, forcing a smile. “I think she’d probably like to see something you made.”

“I can’t draw. I’m not artistic.”

“That’s not true,” Tweek replied, wiping away a fat tear from Tricia’s cheek. “I’ve seen your pictures and videos on Instagram and TikTok…why don’t you make a video?!”

“Like…like…of what?” Tricia asked, though she looked a little more interested now.

“Like, of you and Craig. And Red! Red could send you some video and you could put it together. I bet it would make your grandma feel really happy to know you were all thinking of her, when she wakes up. I’m sure Craig would help you. He used to make videos when we were kids.”

Tricia gave one final sniff and bit her lip.

“Do…do you think Craig would let me borrow his camera?”

Tweek grinned, giving Tricia’s arm a final squeeze. “I’m sure he would. Come on, let’s go ask him.”

Tweek gave his (still vibrating) phone a final glare and took the pasta sauce he had been making all morning off the heat and followed Tricia up the stairs. Since the news of Craig’s grandmother had hit the family, Tweek had wordlessly taken over the preparation of meals. He could see what a hard time Laura was having just trying to keep her family from falling apart emotionally right now, and he was eager to help out in any way he could.

When Tricia and Tweek reached Craig’s room, Tweek gave a little knock. No answer. Tweek waited another few seconds before pushing the door open.

The room was deserted, save Strip taking a nap in his cage. Tweek looked around confused. He had assumed Craig had been in his room all morning.

When they first received the news about Ruby, Craig had been more distant than ever. During the days he had refused to speak to anyone, including Tweek, hiding away in his room alone. During the nights Craig had been clingy and emotional – more often than not, holding Tweek to his chest, which heaved with silent sobs, until he fell asleep.

Craig’s mood had seemed to improve over the past couple of days. He had even joined the family for the past two dinners. He still was spending a lot of time alone in his room, though Tweek knew he must have called Token and Clyde to tell them the news, as they had both sent Tweek direct messages to check in on Craig and ask if there was anything they could do.

Last night at dinner, Laura had announced that Shady Acres had called to let them know that Ruby’s condition had improved substantially, and they were considering bringing her out of her coma in the next couple of days. Tweek had heard Laura and Thomas discussing if it made sense to move her into their house for the remainder of the quarantine, and Tweek felt renewed guilt for the space he was already taking up.

Still, the news had seemed to relieve both Craig and Tricia, and Craig had even spent the previous night playing Smash Bros. with Jimmy, laughing. The sound had brought Tweek a lot of peace. Now, seeing the empty room, Tweek’s anxiety sprung anew. A sudden sickening fear that Craig had finally snapped and decided to break into the retirement home crossed Tweek’s mind.

“Here it is,” Tricia announced, holding up a camcorder from the floor of Craig’s closet. “Do you think it still works?”

“Uh…yeah…here,” Tweek replied, absentmindedly, pulling a charging cord out of Craig’s desk. He handed it to Tricia and forced a smile.

“Cool! Thanks,” she grinned, flipping the camera open. “When you see Craig can you tell him I asked really nice to borrow it.”

“Yeah…sure,” Tweek replied, his mind still on Craig’s whereabouts. “Just don’t break it!” He called after the girl as she ran out of the room.

Tweek sat down on the bed, resisting the urge to pull at his hair. Where was Craig? Should he text him? If he wanted to be alone, that may just annoy him more. But what if Craig was breaking into Shady Acres? What if he got caught? Or worse, what if he caught coronavirus?

Tweek reached for his phone but realized he had left it on the table downstairs. It was now surely flooded with even more vial texts from Eric Cartman.

His eyes scanned desperately over the room, willing Craig to materialize. When they landed on Craig’s desk, however, he realized something he hadn’t before.

His keyboard was gone.

He was sure it had been there when he woke up in the morning, but now it was missing. Explanations involving gnomes were already forming in Tweek’s mind when he heard, very faintly, through the vent, Heart and Soul.

Craig.

Tweek hopped off the bed, practically running down the stairs to the main floor. He hesitated once he got to basement door, though, his hand on the knob. Cartman’s words replayed in his head.

_He was the one tired of looking at your stupid fucking face and listening to your annoying fucking screaming._

Tweek bit his lip. He didn’t want to make things worse. This was a problem. Not some crazy South Park bullshit that Stan and his friends brought down upon the town – a real life problem. Craig’s grandmother was sick. If Tweek said or did the wrong thing he could make it much worse and lose Craig forever.

 _This isn’t about you. This is about helping Craig_ , he reminded himself in his bravest internal voice. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Craig was sitting at Tweek’s keyboard. He was resting his head in one hand, elbow on the table under the instrument. He was poking at the keys with his index finger to the same tune Tweek had shown him weeks ago.

The basement still had scraps of aluminum foil stuck to places they had yet to take down. The pictures that the Asian girls drew were still hanging on the walls, making it look a little like Craig’s basement was traveling in space.

Tweek walked over and gently put a hand on Craig’s shoulder. Craig jumped, startled, and turned around. His features relaxed when he saw Tweek.

“Hey,” Craig mumbled, turning back to the keyboard.

“Hi.” Tweek pulled a chair over and sat next to Craig.

“I thought you were cooking.” Craig poked his fingers at the keys again.

“I was, but Tricia needed help.”

Craig didn’t say anything, so Tweek pressed on.

“Red called her, so she was kinda upset.”

“Oh yeah, Red’s Zoom invitation to commiserate? I declined.”

Tweek fiddled with his fingers, watching Craig melancholically play the song.

“Are you upset?” Tweek finally asked, chancing a look up. Craig was still looking at the piano.

“No. I think she’ll be okay. That’s what Mom says, at least so…I think she’ll be okay.”

“Me too,” Tweek quickly agreed.

Craig turned to face Tweek. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, before closing it again and turning back to the keyboard. There was a pained expression on Craig’s face, as if he was struggling with something very important. Tweek wondered if he was going to tell him he was finally tired of Tweek being there. That Tweek had done it – he had finally pushed Craig away.

_He cares about you. He cares about you._

_No one has ever fucking loved you._

“What made you want to play piano?” Craig asked, shaking Tweek out of his thoughts.

“What? Oh…uh…I don’t know…” Tweek reached up to grab his hair, but Craig caught his hand. Tweek took a breath. “I guess…I liked Billy Joel, and I wanted to learn to play…like him…”

He felt his answer didn’t properly encompass how much piano meant to him. How it felt to be able to express what the voices in his head were screaming by playing the right combinations of cords.

Craig made a noise in his throat and gave a nod of acceptance, but the pained look on his face remained. He started the piano riff over again.

“So, what made you like Billy Joel?” Craig asked, after a couple minutes, not looking up from the piano.

“I…I don’t know,” Tweek responded. The interrogation was making his heart race, afraid he’d say the wrong thing. “He has a s-”

“A song for everything, yeah, I know,” Craig finished for him, giving a tiny smile. His eyes flashed up to meet Tweek’s. “But what does that mean?”

Tweek looked down at the keyboard, watching Craig’s slim finger bounce up and down on the keys, keeping time. He bit his lip, the uncomfortable silence serving to only increase his discomfort.

“For a long time I thought my thoughts didn’t work like anyone else’s.”

Tweek could feel Craig turn to look at him, but Tweek kept his eyes focused on the instrument, even though Craig’s playing had stopped.

“It’s like…I was an alien. Everything I saw, no one saw it like me…and when I’d try to explain, no one would listen to me.”

“I listen to you,” Craig interrupted, defensively.

“B-before you,” Tweek corrected, his head shooting up to look at Craig. “I felt this way-nnn-before you. When I was young – er…younger.”

Craig looked skeptical but gave a nod for Tweek to continue.

“I just…I couldn’t…I can’t…put all my thoughts into words…and no one understands…and…I’m a freak…”

Tweek felt Craig’s left hand tighten on his slightly.

“A-and then I heard him on the radio. And it was…like…m-my thoughts…only…they made sense. Ev-everyone understood them. And he-he had a song for every one of them – my thoughts I mean. And I just…I wished I could do that…”

Tweek pressed his left index finger onto middle C.

“I wish I could make songs that made people understand what I felt.”

Craig was silent, still holding Tweek’s right hand.

Tweek drew his hands into his lap and wrung them. He wasn’t sure what to say. He had never talked to anyone about this before. He had never tried. He assumed it sounded insane, to imply that a famous recording artist was speaking to him directly.

He wanted to explain how You May Be Right was about Bebe and Clyde, and how they made each other’s lives more fun even though they drove each other crazy. How the song You’re Only Human was Token every time he tried to calm someone down or cheer them up after they made a mistake. How Jimmy was just like The Entertainer, always trying to make them laugh, worried if his jokes fall flat, people won’t be interested in him anymore. How Code of Silence was about Heidi and all the things she went through with Cartman that she still refused to talk about with anyone, even Tweek.

He wanted to tell Craig about all the songs that were Craig. How every song about home and trust and comfort were all somehow Craig, and how every heartbreaking, beautiful, perfect love song was Tweek.

But he couldn’t find the words.

“So do I,” Craig said softly.

Tweek felt his cheeks get hotter, already regretting sharing as much as he did. He knew Craig was still staring at him, and the air felt thick with tension.

“Do you want me to play the song with you?” Tweek finally asked, eyes still on his lap.

“No,” Craig replied, stretching and sighing. “I want just you to play.”

“Play what?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

The carte blanche made Tweek’s hands sweat.

“Well, I can’t just play anything, Craig.”

“Tweek-”

“I’m not good at just vamping or…or-”

“Tweek. Just…okay.” Craig sighed, and Tweek realized with alarm how frustrated Craig sounded. “What’s the first song you ever learned?”

Tweek blinked at him for a minute, then brought his hand up to the keyboard to start playing Three Blind Mice. Craig laughed and caught his hand.

“Ha ha, very funny. No…what was the first Billy Joel song you ever played?”

Tweek looked back up at Craig. His eyes looked pained, and Tweek didn’t know why, and that hurt him.

He took a shaky breath and pulled his hand out of Craig’s. He turned back to the keyboard and started playing.

The melody was simple enough. Soft. Slow. His well practiced fingers found the keys easily and smoothly. He wasn’t sure if it was truly the first Billy Joel song he had learned, but looking into Craig’s eyes, it had suddenly become the only one he could remember.

“In every heart there is a room – a sanctuary safe and strong – to heal the wounds from lovers past, until a new one comes along.

“I spoke to you in cautious tones. You answered me with no pretense. And still I feel I’ve said too much – my silence is my self-defence.

“And every time I’ve held a rose, it seems I only felt the thorns. And so it goes, and so it goes…and so will you soon I suppose.

“But if my silence made you leave, then that would be my worst mistake, so I will share this room with you, and you can have this heart to break.”

Tweek knew his voice was choked and flat at times. He knew it wasn’t coming out deep and velvety, the way the record sounded, the way he _wanted_ it to sound. Judging by the way Craig shifted uncomfortably beside him, Tweek suspected he knew how bad his rendition sounded, too.

“And this is why my eyes are closed…it’s just as well for all I’ve seen. And so it goes, and so it goes, and you’re the only one who knows.”

Tweek’s throat felt very dry. He swallowed, but his mouth felt dry too.

“So, I would choose to be with you…that’s if the choice were mine to make, but you can make decisions, too, and you can have this heart to break.”

Tweek’s right hand trembled as it led through the bridge. He opened his mouth to sing the last chorus, but he couldn’t.

Suddenly, and without warning, Craig’s mouth was covering his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show of hands, who was finding that slow burn hard to live with? I hope you liked this chapter guys. If you find it difficult to read music lyrics and picture someone singing, you are more normal than I, and I apologize. Please listen to the songs (specifically And So It Goes by Mr. Billy Joel, but all of them are fire).
> 
> If I haven't said it lately, thank you to all my readers. Your reviews are getting me through this pandemic.


	11. Still Day 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek tries to think through the repercussions of his first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys before I say anything else, on a serious note, I want to sincerely offer my love and support to those protesting in America right now. You deserve so much more than you're getting. Please stay safe. All my love <3
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter. My beta does not suffer from manic episodes and can sleep like a normal human, so no beta again this time, my guys!
> 
> I don't own these char- no. You know what? What you gonna do? Sue me? Well, go on then, sue me. Okay, good! Do it! Sue me!

It wasn’t like the movies. It was actually pretty awkward.

Craig’s mouth moved against Tweek’s feverishly, with a kind of palpable desperation. Their teeth banged together as Craig turned his head a little towards his shoulder. Tweek, for his part, was very still, not even closing his eyes. He sat ridged on the folding chair, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard. He wondered, dazedly, if he should be moving his head the way Craig was, but the decision was taken away from him when Craig’s hand snaked into the back of his hair, holding him in place.

It was difficult to breathe, Craig’s lips blocking Tweek’s main airway, and it did cross Tweek’s mind that if he didn’t swallow soon, he may start to drool down his chin.

This was wrong. _He_ was wrong. This wasn’t the way he was supposed to react to his first kiss – not the way he had allowed himself to daydream so many times while he was alone in his room playing love songs to no one.

His mind raced, searching desperately through The Notebook and Jerry Maguire and all the other gushy movies he and Clyde put on after the others had passed out at a sleepover, frantically searching for some clue on how to react to his present situation.

He tried to think of the pinnacle moment of every rom com, when the main characters share a passionate kiss, but could only seem to remember snuggling closer to a sleeping Craig and Clyde bursting into tears as they watched the tender moment unfold.

“I love this part,” Clyde would always whisper, wiping his nose on the inside collar of his t-shirt. “The first kiss is always the best one.”

Determination eclipsed Tweek’s trepidation as he shook himself from his stasis. Forcing his limbs to obey, Tweek brought his right hand away from the keyboard and placed it aside Craig’s cheek, cradling the boy’s head. He planted his left hand firmly beside him on the chair to give himself better leverage.

He pushed his body closer to Craig’s, allowing his eyelids to drop closed. Involuntarily, his lips began to move, trying to keep time with Craig. Tweek could feel Craig’s body relax as he smiled against Tweek’s mouth. He took his hand not tangled in Tweek’s hair and pressed it against Tweek’s lower back, dragging him even closer across the folding chair.

Tweek felt like he was watching the kiss take place from up above them, with the forgotten tinfoil, rather than actively participating in it.

_What are you doing?! This isn’t right!_

The voice in his head brought him rocketing back to earth. His eyes fluttered open with realization. What _was_ he doing? Kissing Craig? Kissing his _fake_ boyfriend?

He pressed his hands to Craig’s chest, pushing away.

Craig pulled back from the kiss, his movements reluctant and his lids heavy. He tilted his head to look at Tweek, his hand still pressed against Tweek’s back.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Tweek asked, pushing against Craig harder, trying to get out of his chair. His feet got tangled in the cord for his keyboard and he fell to the ground. Craig placed a hand on the keyboard so it wouldn’t fall off the table and reached his other out to Tweek on the ground. He still seemed to be moving as if in a daze, but the confusion on his face was more apparent now.

Tweek scrambled to stand up, still backing away. Craig was frozen in a tableau, one hand still outstretched and the other on the keyboard.

“What are you do-doing?!” Tweek asked again, his voice getting more shrill.

“I…” Craig started, but before he could continue, Tweek turned on his heel and ran up the stairs.

* * *

Tweek had run out of the house and into the pouring rain. Moving on pure adrenaline, he had made it all the way to the elementary school, slipping several times in the puddles forming on the sidewalk. As soon as he reached the parking lot, it had occurred to him just how winded he was, and he had to stop. He had debated sitting down by the back entrance of the school, where he could find at least a bit of cover from the rain, but it had reminded him too much of Craig’s constellation stories, so Tweek opted (against his better judgement) to enter the woods behind the school.

He had wandered around for a while, pulling at his hair and screaming against the thunder. He had finally collapsed down in a patch of dirt, which had since become a mud puddle.

How could he have done this? How had he let it get this far?

It was selfish. That’s what it was. Tweek was selfish and he had ruined Craig’s first kiss because of it.

_It wasn’t really his first ki-_

_Oh, shut up._

Tweek slammed his head backwards into the tree behind him.

He had ruined everything.

The tears started to come. Slowly, at first, just filling up the bottoms of his eyes and clinging to the lashes before spilling out onto his cheeks, mixing with the rain that was falling from the sky and from his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut and the tears came faster.

He should have broken up with Craig. He shouldn’t have let this go on so long. He should have given Craig a chance to go out and find a real girlfriend instead of whatever freakshow they had been perpetuating for seven years.

And now…now Craig was broken. Tweek had broken him. He had to be. This wasn’t Craig. Tweek had leaned on Craig too long, using him for all his emotional support, and now, with the world falling apart and his grandmother gravely ill, Craig had turned to Tweek for emotional support. Only, Craig had never been able to emote _properly_.

He had only kissed Tweek because he was sad. And scared. And because Tweek was a constant fixture in his life thanks to the fake relationship.

 _“When the world is changing, we seek comfort in the familiar,”_ Tweek’s therapist would have said.

Craig didn’t _want_ to kiss Tweek. Craig didn’t want _Tweek_. He wanted comfort. But Tweek had held onto the fake boyfriend charade too long, and now…maybe Craig thought this was the only way he could get comfort.

But Craig wasn’t gay! He was straight, just like their friends. He liked girls, not boys, not…not Tweek. But then…Craig kissed him. All because Tweek hadn’t wanted to let Craig go. Selfish. And Tweek had kissed him back, because well…because it was Craig. Selfish!

And now it was ruined.

Craig’s first kiss. Tweek’s first kiss. Their…well…whatever they had.

Tweek opened his eyes, blinking away raindrops and stared straight ahead. He focused his eyes on the tree in front of him. Through the downpour, he thought he could make out some faded carvings etched into the bark of the tree. Tweek rubbed the tears from his eyes, trying to get a better look, and the memory flooded back.

They hadn’t wanted to go home yet. It was June, nearing summer, and the weather was too nice for Tweek to be cooped up in the back of his parents’ coffeeshop, sampling coffee flavours. Craig had suggested a walk through the woods. Tweek had been scared, but as soon as Craig had taken his hand, the leprechauns and Nazi zombies and all the other terrible creatures that lived in the woods just didn’t seem so scary.

They had listened to Tweek’s iPod with one pair of headphones and Craig had pulled out his father’s pocketknife. Tweek could remember wondering if Craig was going to kill him but being too impressed with Craig’s thievery to run away.

Craig had walked up to a tree and dug the knife into its flesh, dragging it down to make a lopsided heart. He had scrapped a (rather pointy) C inside the heart, before handing the knife to Tweek.

“Give ‘em something to talk about,” he had grinned and winked, as Tweek took the knife with a shaky hand. He tried to replicate Craig’s movements with his own initial but hadn’t been able to exert enough force to make it visible. Craig had placed his hand over Tweek’s, forcing the knife into the tree to carve a T.

Now, that warm June day long in the past, Tweek crawled forward, gently running the tips of his fingers over the faded letters. Fresh tears collected in his eyes and he fell back on his knees with a soft scream.

“Tweek?”

Tweek’s head snapped up.

Standing over him, drenched from head to foot, was Craig.

Tweek stared at Craig and Craig stared back, neither speaking. Eventually Tweek dropped his eyes, as raindrops kept hitting them.

“H-how did you know I was here?” he asked softly, after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Craig let out an audible sigh.

“I didn’t. I’ve been all over town.”

Tweek nodded to himself, picking up a stick from the ground and dragging it through the mud.

Craig sighed again. “Dude, come on.”

Tweek bit his lip. He wanted to respond. He wanted comfort.

Unfortunately, he had broken the one person he wanted it from.

“Tweek, man, get up!” Craig yelled, and it shocked Tweek into looking up again. “I’m not gonna leave you in the fucking rain. You don’t have to come back to my place…I’ll…I’ll take you to your parents’.”

Tweek’s heart rate quickened. “N-no! Nnn-no I don’t want to go there.”

Craig let out a frustrated groan, dragging his fingers through his wet hair, pushing the bangs clinging to his forehead back.

“Well, what do you want, Tweek? ‘Cause, honestly, I have no fucking clue. You sing me love songs and then throw a fit when I kiss you, so clearly I’m too dense to figure out whatever language you’re speaking.”

Tweek slapped the stick to the ground beside him, his own frustration growing.

“What do _I_ want?! The whole reason we’re in this mess is because you only ask what _I_ want. What do _you_ want, Craig?!”

Craig held out his hands in front of him in disbelief, as if presenting Tweek as an exhibit of all things nonsensical.

“See, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Craig’s voice was breathy and filled with emotion. It made Tweek reach for his hair. Craig didn’t stop him.

“Wh-why,” Tweek fought to stop tears from spilling out over his cheeks, “are you pretending to be m-my boyfriend and holding me at night and d-dancing wuh-with me and kissing me and shit?!”

Craig’s arms fell to his sides, limp, and his mouth fell open.

“Pretending…?” he asked. Lightning crashed to their left, and Tweek flinched. Craig didn’t seem to notice.

“Ye-yeah,” Tweek pressed on. “You talk about how _I’m_ this great actor, well, wh-when are you gonna stop acting like you have feelings you **don’t have**!”

Craig looked shocked, his mouth still slightly ajar. He shook his head, regaining his composure and spraying water droplets down at Tweek.

“No, fuck you dude,” Craig’s anger had returned. “Just ‘cause you don’t like me back doesn’t mean you fuckin’ get to tell me what I feel for you!”

“GAH!” Tweek screamed, pulling harder at his hair. “Are you even listening to yourself?! ‘What you feel for me’? You’re not even gay, Craig!”

“Says who?!”

Tweek felt the familiar sense of frustration at not being able to express himself.

“You! Says you! Like, repeatedly!”

“What, like when we were in **fourth grade**?” Craig shook his head again and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he couldn’t comprehend how stupid Tweek was. “Tweek, we were ten! I thought ‘gay’ meant Garrison and Mr. Slave! How the actual fuck was I supposed to know who I’d fall in love with?!”

They both fell silent. Thunder crashed somewhere far away, and rain fell in sheets upon the trees and ground, but neither boy spoke. Tweek stared up at Craig, no longer noticing the raindrops falling in his eyes. Craig’s own eyes were red. Tweek thought he may be crying but couldn’t tell with the rain soaking Craig’s face.

Craig’s sigh broke the silence, shaky and defeated.

“Look…when you played that song…I…I thought you…got it or…you were telling me something. But it’s fine. It’s whatever. We can break up or…I guess…end whatever this is to you. But I’m not leaving you out here to die of hypothermia.”

Craig shoved his hands in his pockets, dropping his gaze to the ground in front of him.

Tweek’s mind was spinning. Was this real? Was this just Craig trying to appease him? It was too much to take in.

“But…we…we were d-doing it…for the town…” Tweek tried to explain, words failing him.

Craig let out a humourless laugh. “Tweek, this town moves on from things on a weekly basis. I wasn’t doing it for them. And honestly…I didn’t realize you were. The couples’ counselling, the birthday parties, staying at my house during a fucking pandemic…”

Tweek saw Craig’s eyes dart to the carving on the tree.

“Guess I didn’t realize what a good actor you were,” Craig finished, his voice trailing off.

 _Say something!_ Tweek screamed at himself. _Say anything!_

His body began to shake, and Tweek wondered if he really had caught hypothermia. Craig started to reach out his hand to help Tweek up, but caught himself, shoving it back into his pocket and taking a step back.

Tweek pushed himself up from the ground. His jeans were ripped and muddy from sitting on the ground and from his falls on the way to the school. He hadn’t had the wherewithal to grab a coat on his way out the door, and his skin felt tight and cold. It was beginning to set in just how uncomfortable he was in his wet clothes.

Craig turned on his heel, leading the way back to the parking lot. Tweek followed, a few paces behind in silence. It felt strange to be so near to Craig and to not be holding his hand.

Craig’s Pinto sat in the same spot it had weeks ago when Craig had brought Tweek out to help him sleep. The parallel made Tweek’s chest tighten. Craig climbed in the driver’s seat, and Tweek walked around to the passenger’s.

There, sitting in the shot gun seat, was a huge fluffy towel and one of Craig’s sweaters. Next to the seat, in the console, was a thermos of, what Tweek assumed to be, tea.

Tweek stared at the seat for a minute, before slowly climbing in.

He moved the sweater to the backseat and wrapped himself up in the towel, feeling an instant warmth encompass him. He turned to look at Craig, who, noticeably, did not have a towel, and was currently dripping onto the steering wheel.

Craig pulled his keys out of his pocket and jammed them in the ignition. Before he could turn them though, Tweek grabbed the keys and pulled them out. Craig turned to look at him, his normal mask of indifference cracked with confusion and annoyance.

Tweek licked his lips.

“I don’t want you to get annoyed with me.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to get annoyed with you either, gimme my keys,” Craig replied, reaching across the boy, careful not to touch him.

“No,” Tweek replied, pulling his arm back. He couldn’t find the right words. It wasn’t coming out right. “I mean, I don’t want you to get tired of me. Being with me…isn’t fair…to you.”

Craig lowered the arm reaching for the keys and stared back at Tweek.

Tweek fidgeted with the key ring, sticking his thumbnail between the compressed metal hoops.

“Everyone hates me,” he whispered, his eyes filling with fresh tears. “Everyone thinks I’m a spaz…a freak. My parents…the kids at school…the whole town.”

“That’s bullshit,” Craig interrupted. He grabbed Tweek’s cheek and lifted it up to look at him. “Hey, no. That’s bullshit.”

“No, it’s not!” Tweek yelled, pulling his face away. “My parents can’t stand me, they sent me to live with you during Armageddon! Even you hid in a box as soon as you had to spend time with me! You want honesty? Fine! I was never acting either. It wasn’t about the town. I just wanted you. You were like…you made it easier! And I knew that if the town wanted it, you would keep pretending, so I let you! Even…after I shouldn’t have…”

The tears were spilling down Tweek’s cheeks now. He used the towel to wipe at them.

Craig let his head fall backwards, exasperated.

“Tweek…I told you I was sorry about that goddamn box.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry!” Tweek yelled, his voice coming out much too high and choked. “I want you to admit you don’t have feelings for me!”

“Tweek, please…I can’t…I can’t keep talking about this,” Craig pleaded, his voice tired. Tweek’s heart ached for him. This was the most he had ever heard Craig talk about his feelings.

“Okay,” Tweek replied quietly, handing the keys back to Craig, and turning to face out the passenger’s window.

He waited for the engine to start, but it didn’t. Instead he heard a deep groan, and turned to see Craig, his face pressed against the steering wheel.

Craig pulled his head up to look at Tweek.

“Alright, look. Do you remember when we were young? And you would come over every day after school and we’d watch Red Racer or play video games or…whatever?”

Tweek nodded, encouraging Craig to go on, not sure where he was going.

“You always would talk, right through the episode. Or you would show me a YouTube video right when I was in the middle of a boss fight in a video game.”

Tweek flinched at the accusation. “S-sorr-”

“No, let me finish,” Craig interrupted. “It always made me really mad…or…frustrated, I guess. You still do it. It pisses me off.”

Tweek pulled the blanket tighter around him, feeling his eyes well up again.

“But I mean, when I put on that box, it stopped and…and that sucked. I missed it. And when I took the box off, and you came back…well…you talking through Red Racer was the best part of my day.”

Craig stared at Tweek, as if willing him to understand.

He didn’t.

Craig ruffled his hair, frustrated.

“You said you’re scared of annoying me. Well, you shouldn’t be. You _do_ annoy me. When you eat all the chocolate out of the McFlurry before I get any; or when you select Yoshi in Mario, even though you _know_ he’s my favourite; or when you make me talk about my feelings in our elementary school parking lot. But those are _things_ , Tweek. They aren’t _you_. _You_ are not annoying. _You_ are interesting and fun and kind and smart and…”

Craig reached and grabbed Tweek’s hand. Tweek felt the familiar gesture lighten an invisible weight from his shoulders.

“I’m sorry you think people hate you, but they don’t. _I_ don’t. Being around you…is my favourite thing. Driving you home from school, listening to you play a new song you learned on the piano, getting a text at 2 am that you need me…it’s the best part of my day. _You’re_ the best part of my day.”

Craig stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looked out the windshield.

“And…since I plan on _never_ talking about my feelings _ever_ again once we pull out of this parking lot, just so you know…there’s nothing you can do to make me _not_ want you. Anxiety, pandemic, giant Barbara Streisand – I don’t care what South Park throws at us. I will _always_ love you.”

Craig stared at Tweek, his eyes desperate, imploring Tweek to understand his words.

Tweek bit his lip, hesitating only for a second, before pushing himself up and leaning over the arm rest, gently pressing his lips against Craig’s.

And the world stopped turning. And there were fireworks.

And it was just like the movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This story is wrapping up, but it's not the end of Craig and Tweek, trust ;) 
> 
> Please comment, if you have the time. It's honestly better than Xanax to hear from you guys.
> 
> Love to you all. Please stay safe. <3


	12. Day 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look Ma, I finished a story. 
> 
> All characters and events in this story...even those expanded upon by the author...are entirely the property of the creators and distributors of South Park. All characterizations are interpreted from the source material...poorly. The following story contains a happy ending and due to its content it should not be read by anyone.

**_troy bolton sent an article_ **

**troy bolton:** ☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

 **baking guy:** aww

 **baking guy:** Clyde learned how to read

 **insecure gay:** finally

 **troy bolton:** GUYS JIMMY IS A BULLY AND WE SHOULDNT TALK TO HIM ANYMORE

 **beautiful angel 😇:** lol

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** Yeah, Clyde I saw that article too! Good news!

 **insecure gay** **:** what’s it say

 **troy bolton** **:** now who cant read…

 **insecure gay** **:** 🖕🏻

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Some counties in Colorado are loosening restrictions and allowing “bubbling”.

 **baking guy** **:** hot 😉

 **troy bolton** **:** GUYS WE CAN FINALLY MAKE OUR TIKTOK

 **troy bolton** **:** WHICH I KNOW YOU HAVE ALL BEEN EAGERLY AWAITING

 **insecure gay** **:** shut up clyde

 **beautiful angel 😇** **:** I donn’t think that’s how it workss Clyde 😔

 **troy bolton** **:** yes it is

 **troy bolton** **:** we will be a bubble

 **beautiful angel 😇** **:** I think it’s only onne family with one other ffamily

 **troy bolton** **:** no

 **troy bolton** **:** no

 **troy bolton** **:** no dont take this away from me tweek my angel

 **beautiful angel 😇** **:** 😔

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** It’s still really good news!

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Hopeful!

 **troy bolton** **:** 😭😭

**_baking guy changed troy bolton’s name to_ Bubble Boy **

**troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Tweek’s right, but I know some counties are allowing gatherings of up to ten people as long as they’re outside.

 **Bubble Boy** : well lets go to those counties!!

 **insecure gay** **:** we dont want to gather with you

 **insecure gay** **:** take a hint

 **Bubble Boy:** 😭😭

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** How’s your grandma, Craig?

 **insecure gay** **:** better

 **insecure gay** **:** thanks

 **insecure gay** **:** we moved her in here after she recovered

 **insecure gay** **:** shes crashin on the couch

 **beautiful angel 😇** **:** he’s joking!!

 **beautiful angel 😇** **:** she’s nnot on the couchh!!

 **beautiful angel 😇** **:** we moved to the bbasement!! she’s in CCraig’s bed

 **baking guy** **:** sounds fake 🤨

**_baking guy changed beautiful angel 😇’s name to_ Grandma Abuser **

**Grandma Abuser:** WWHAT

 **baking guy** **:** call it like I see it 🧐🤷🏻‍♂️

**_insecure gay changed Grandma Abuser’s name to_ Tweek **

**Tweek** **:** thank you Craig 🙂

 **insecure gay** **:** 👍🏻❤️

 **baking guy** **:** insecure gay insecure no more

 **insecure gay** **:** 🖕🏻

 **Bubble Boy:** guys what are you planning for my birthday

 **insecure gay** **:** your bday was in april dumbass

 **Bubble Boy:** yeah and im getting kinda tired of waiting for the surprise party tbh

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Clyde, we were in quarantine…

 **Bubble Boy:** oh ok cool did i imagine a sick ass zoom birthday party for nichole orrr

 **baking guy** **:** yeah I don’t remember that

 **insecure gay** **:** same

 **Bubble Boy:** GUYSSS

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Clyde, things will probably go back to normal after the summer. We can do something then.

 **Bubble Boy:** heart = broken

 **Bubble Boy:** dreams = shattered

 **Tweek** **:** wwe could probably get together in the woods behind sp elementary

 **Tweek** **:** if we stay six ft aapart

 **Tweek** **:** and bringg sanitizer

 **baking guy** **:** 👀

 **Bubble Boy:** 😍😍

**_Bubble Boy changed Tweek’s name to_ Wonder Tweek **

**Wonder Tweek** **:** lol

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Tweek, you sure you’re comfortable with that?

 **insecure gay** **:** ☝🏻

 **Wonder Tweek:** yeah 

**baking guy** **:** do it up! I got the beer

 **troy bolton’s black friend** **:** Alright, if Tweek’s sure, we’ll meet there at 10 pm.

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** This is exciting guys! I’m looking forward to seeing you!

 **Bubble Boy:** im so happy 😭🥰😭 i feel the love

 **Bubble Boy:** and then we can practice our dance

 **insecure gay:** do we have to invite clyde?

 **Bubble Boy:** @Wonder Tweek how does such an etheral human being like you get stuck with this garbage human???

 **troy bolton’s black friend:** ethereal*

 **Wonder Tweek:** lol

 **insecure gay:** weird how bebe’s not tryin that hard to bubble with you 🤔

 **Bubble Boy:** seeeee tweek????

 **Bubble Boy:** just kno that i am prepared at any minute to drop all this and run away with you @Wonder Tweek

 **Bubble Boy:** start a new life together

 **Bubble Boy:** forget all about craig

**Wonder Tweek: 😉**

**insecure gay:** hey!

 **baking guy:** oh look the insecure is back

 **Wonder Tweek:** lol Craig ccalm down I’m all yours.

 **Wonder Tweek:** Don’t worry so much ❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it. 
> 
> You know, my mom keeps telling me that Newton invented Calculus during his quarantine. As someone who has two degrees in Mathematics, I feel pretty confident that my quarantine has produced a bit more joy than his. 
> 
> I mean, yeah, it's a short chapter, but at least it's not integrals, am I right?
> 
> Before I get too insufferable, I just want to shout out a few Thank Yous. Firstly, to my family who will never read this story - you guys are the best, and I'm glad I'm quarantined with you ❤️
> 
> Secondly, to DaftyPhun. Her art is truly amazing and I simply would not have been able to write some of the scenes I have without being able to bounce ideas off of her. I feel really blessed that I have gained a friendship out of writing this story, and I encourage all my readers to check out her YouTube, Insta, and Tumblr.
> 
> Of course, I have to thank Joyni, without whom I never would have had the drive to write any of this. While this story has definitely benefited from my manic highs, she has been the constant support getting me through my depressive lows. I hope you know when you are down, that you turned my life around. Just like the quote from Shakespeare said: I'm your Tweek, and you’re my Craig.
> 
> And finally, I want to thank all of you for reading. Honestly, this has been a deeply difficult time for many people, myself included. I truly appreciate you sharing this time with me. I hope you will consider reading my sequel, but if this is where we part, I understand. I wish all those reading (and all those not) safety and happiness for the rest of their quarantines. 
> 
> All my love,  
> Eryn ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you anyone and everyone for reading. A shout out to my friend Joy who does not have an ao3 handle, but does have a heart of gold for letting me bounce ideas off her. I'm sure she will be on my back to continue posting chapters. 
> 
> Please, everyone, stay safe. My heart goes out to anyone in the world who is dealing with the direct and indirect effects of this disease. I hope my story can give you a brief reprieve from the severity of what is going on, but please don't mistake it for me not taking it seriously. ❤️


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